


one page at a time

by amosanguis



Series: creature AUs [62]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Families of Choice, Fluff and Angst, Human Steve, M/M, Merman Danny, Mershark Junior, Original Language, Season/Series 03, Secrets, Traffickers, because there are always traffickers, title from a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-10-13 15:17:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17490362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: Thewiktefolk were declared extinct decades ago and Danny's fine with that. No, really.





	1. yate (1)

**Author's Note:**

> \--no adultery; shame on you, Danny  
> \--‘fry’ is a baby fish, but I’ve modified it to ‘fryling’ to talk about all mer-children  
> \--the MCPON is the Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy and MCPON is pronounced like its own word: mick-pawn.  
> \--season 3-ish  
> \--Title from "True Colors" sung by Zedd and Ke$ha
> 
> I've been trying to find an easier way to give y'all access to the glossary, rather than just have a huge list of words at the end of the fic. So where I could, and where it didn't interrupt the flow of the story, I incorporated the English word. 
> 
> I also set up a [tumblr post](http://amosanguis.tumblr.com/post/182175644290/vocab-for-my-h50-fic-one-page-at-a-time) with the full vocab, so you can just flip through tabs if you want. Some background on the language and where it came from is also there and will be worth the quick read.

-z-

 

Danny locks eyes with Behati and his mouth drops and hers does, too, and before Arlo can even introduce them, Behati is taking one of Danny's hands in both of hers, a trill building in the back of her throat.

“ _Behati_ ,” Danny greets her, saying her name the way it was supposed to be said – with all the accents and inflections of the sea’s language, Kùtki, so that it came out more like a song.

Then she’s singing at him, greeting him quickly as she wraps her long arms around him and Danny does what he can to hug her right back. They may have been of different colonies, but the _wikte_ folk were so few these days, most of the old rivalries and feuds had faded and been forgotten (not a difficult thing, considering how a war couldn’t be waged without an army).

She pulls away just enough to put her forehead to Danny’s, her eyes so bright in this sun.

Then Danny pulls back further, takes a step away as he tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and looks her up and down, still holding onto her hands.

“You look good,” he says, earnest.

“As do you,” she replies, grinning. “Will you be the one helping us?”

And just like that, Danny’s reminded where he is. He glances at Steve and Steve’s standing a few steps further back and his eyebrows are high up into his hairline and Arlo, when Danny checks, is looking much the same.

To Behati, he says, “Yes, _kwokǔhia_ – cousin – for you: anything.”

Before Steve can jump in – and the way he’s (not) glaring at Behati and Danny’s interlinked hands – his phone rings and then there’s something else that requires his attention. With a huff, he leaves Danny with Behati, who shares a conspiratorial look with Danny and a few of the other models.

But before he can let her distract him with questions about Steve and if Steve’s met his mother, his _yuhǔy_ , yet, Danny asks Arlo what he can tell him about the case.

 

-x-

 

Danny’s colony, from the stories his _yuhǔy_ and _kùchempùppa_ , Clara and Eddie, tell him, is from the Atlantic deep – they were the _Kinsem_ - _Mochak_ , those of the cold-dark. They had once been warriors all – hunting with the narwhale and dancing in the Arctic ice floes with the beluga.

But then the _tihum_ , the humans, brought their wars to the ocean and they filled it with such a noise that it chased all the _wikte_ folk from the water. Magic that had once been used for hunting and dancing now had to be used for shifting. Tails were replaced with legs, fangs and claws were dulled, and new languages had to be learned.

“Many died,” Clara tells him and his siblings. “Some from the sun, some at the hands of _tihum_. Most from _espiù_ – sadness. They were sick with it – sick down to their hearts,” she says, gesturing to her chest. “We were _Kinsem_ - _Mochak_. And yet here we were – on land and under the great _spotkayai_ , burning alive. But there was nowhere else to go.” Clara looks away from her frylings then, who were staring, as always, with rapt attention whenever she talked of the sea, spattering its language in with English. “There was nowhere else to go.”

“By the time they figured out what they had done,” Eddie says, staring hard out the window, picking up where his wife had left off, “it was too late. The damage had been done and so many of the _wikte_ folk were lost. By the 1970s, we were declared extinct.”

“Every day,” _yuhǔy_ starts again, “fewer and fewer _tihum_ believe we ever existed.” She leans forward, makes sure each fryling is listening carefully. “Never, ever, do anything to disavow them of the notion.”

“It’s not about you,” _kùchempùppa_ says, “it’s not about me. It’s not even about the colony. It’s about us _all_ – all the _wikte_ folk. From those of us who swim with the whales, to those who swim with the dolphins or the smaller fish – even those who swim the rivers. We are so few – we must not let our differences push us to fight.”

 

-x-

 

Danny wants to take his time with Behati, wants to talk with her and sing with her, but there’s a criminal on the loose and he’s inherited his ancestors’ love of the hunt. So, Danny gets his information and goes hunting.

And when it’s over and there’s blood on the floor and gun smoke in the air, Danny takes Behati’s hand and leads her away from it. She rests her head on his shoulder and makes it a point not to cry.

“Do you think she might have known?” Behati asks, “what I am? What we are?”

“No, _kwokǔhia_ ,” Danny says. “No, you’re fine. You’re safe, now.”

Behati nods and says nothing else.

 

-

 

Steve hasn’t even waited for Danny to shut the car door before he whirls on him and asks, “What was it that you called Behati? I can’t even pronounce it – what language is that?”

Danny grins and takes a stupid amount of joy from looking over at Steve and saying, “That’s classified.”

Steve clenches his jaw and Danny’s grin gets wider as he watches the little muscle under Steve’s left eye begin twitching. Then Danny pointedly turns away – ending the conversation.

 

-

 

Behati sends tickets for the show and when Danny shows them to Gracie, she squeals in delight. Then Danny adds, “ _Kwum wite_ , there’s something else. Behati – she one of our kind. She’s _wikte_ folk,” and Grace’s hands cover her mouth and her eyes widen and fill with tears. Outside of family, she’s never met one of their own before and Danny’s happy – _so goddamned happy_ – that, if nothing else, he can give her this.

 

-x-

 

Rachel is  _kwuw-wikte_ – half-blooded – but had never been able to call on the magic of her mother’s side – so she and Danny had both hoped that maybe Grace wouldn’t either.

Except, when Grace is seven years old and playing in the bathtub, she’d screamed as her legs began fusing for the change, the _spiy_ , and Danny knew then that there’d be no going back. He’d held her through the pain of that first _spiy_ , talking her through it and extending out his own magic to hurry it along as much as he dared (to help too much would hinder her later, get her own magic too reliant on his to do the work it needed to learn how to do).

Afterwards, as Gracie’s staring at her dull-colored fryling tail with wonder-wide eyes, Danny begins to explain.

“If you take after me,” Danny says, “your _ie_ , your tail, will go white – _nok_ – and you’ll get these little grey spots.” It’s the first time he’s spoken Kùtki to Grace. Before, he hadn’t wanted her to take the words and repeat them where they may have been overheard by the wrong people.

A part of him regrets that because, now, he had a lot of making up to do.

“Can I see your _ie_?” she asks, easily picking up the word Danny had used.

“ _Nutke, kwum wite_ ,” Danny apologizes with a small shake of his head. “There’s not enough room here. One day, though, I’ll show you.” He presses a kiss to her cheek. “Then we’ll go swimming. What do you think about that?”

Grace grins up at him – bright as the _spotkayai_ at its zenith – and he’s immediately up and on his feet, searching for a phone to make a call to his _yuhǔy_. Summer might almost be over, but he had no doubt the family pool would still be open, and it was time for Grace to meet her _yayo_ _spo_ _kwom_ , her grandfather and grandmother, without secrets between them.

 

-

 

What Danny calls the family pool, others would an Olympic swim team and diver training facility.

Since coming ashore, Danny’s colony had ingratiated themselves to the owner of the gym where the pool was located and when the owner grew too old and too tired to run it – and having no kids of his own – had passed the entire facility onto Danny’s _yayo_ , who in turn passed it down to Danny’s _akso_ , his uncle Vito.

Vito Williams takes the facility and runs with it – he builds it up bigger and better until he has enough money to buy the plot of land next to the gym. And he does, he builds an Olympic swim team and diver training facility and designs it to look like an obstacle course to, as he sells it, “Keep the swimmer engaged.” But it’s not long before triathletes (and all their other counterparts) and even the military hear about the facility and come to ask for time blocks.

The salinized pool had six “icebergs” that were anchored to the bottom of the pool, positioned so they would overlap all ten lanes. Icebergs #3 and #5 had openings in their lower halves – giving the swimmer the option to either go through or under the iceberg. Even the temperature of the water was kept at just above freezing and the lights were set to a timer to match the day/night cycle of the arctic.

A series of underwater “caves” began at one end of the pool and came up to the other side. The tunnels that connected them were long and winding, sloping downward just to abruptly cut upwards or to the side.

It had been a heavy investment – one that had originally just been intended for the Williams colony. But it had paid for itself tenfold and more just from the military’s active use of the facility – some of which suspected that the Williams weren’t entirely human, but they never pushed the issue. _Wikte_ folk were too far and too few between to be properly exploited anyway.

But all of it takes a back seat when family calls. So when Danny calls his _akso_ Vito to ask if there’s an available time block to use the pool to teach Gracie how to control her _spiy_ , Vito agrees immediately and tells Danny that he’ll be clearing the schedule for them to use the pool the following Thursday, and that they’ll have the whole day.

 

-

 

 _Akso_ Vito turns up the temperature of the water for Gracie, mimicking the summer waters she would’ve been calved in had they still been living wild.

Danny had tried to get Rachel to take time off work to come with them to pool – she might not have the magic necessary for a _spiy_ , but she could at least be there to support Gracie’s learning. Rachel had said a simple _no_ and left it at that, leaving Danny confused and just a little angry about Rachel’s seeming indifference. But then he tucks it away – something he’s been a doing a lot lately – and goes to pull Grace’s favorite towel (the one with the dolphins Danny tries not to roll his eyes at) out of the dryer.

As soon as they walk into the building, Vito present Grace with her first specialized swimsuit. It's a bikini top and the bottom, called an _amakna_ , is a specialized wrap designed to move with a  _wikte's_  distinct motions - and its color would match the color of her tail. Danny's _amakna_ was white, and was longer, designed to hang loosely around his human legs; but with the  _spiy,_ the _amakna_ would fit tight against his tail. 

Danny spends the day teaching Grace how to first reach for, then manipulate, her magic and how to coax that magic into a _spiy_. It’s a process, but they take it slow – Vito watching from the sidelines and offering the words of encouragement even as he gets more and more of the extended Williams colony into the building, all of them taking turns helping Danny helping Gracie.

Once Grace catches on, it goes quick and it’s not long before the two of them are swimming together. She’s young enough that she’s instinctively able to control her tail – going through the actual physical motions of swimming with as much ease as if she’d been born in the ocean.

The dark grey of Grace’s _ie_ stands in stark contrast to the lightness of Danny’s. Her _ie_ is small and slim, where Danny’s is thick with muscle, the definition of which only enhanced by the dappling of grey and brown that will get lighter as he ages. Her dorsal ridge won’t develop until her mid-teens; and her claws and teeth are still only needle-sharp and fragile, though he knows they’ll toughen with both age and use.

The day passes much too fast for both them or the rest of the _kisǔ_ gathered – Kùtki flowing over all of them with ease and it’s the longest Danny’s heard it since he was a fryling himself, whenever his _wapùet_ would tell their stories long into the night.

 

-

 

In hindsight, it’s where things begin to go wrong.

 

-

 

Rachel tries – she really does. But jealousy, _wihey anuk_ , is an ugly thing and when it takes hold, its claws can run deep. Friendly sniping turns sharp turns to yelling turns to shouting things like “I never loved you” and “I want a divorce.”

Danny’s people are many things, but divorce is a word none of them recognize. It just serves as the starkest of reminders that though he and Rachel may both be _wikte_ , they are not the same species. His colony swam with the belugas and narwhales; hers, with the harbor porpoise and white-beaks out in Dogger Bank of the North Sea – species that were flighty and whimsical, that fell in and out of love with the barest change of the currents.

Clara Williams is ready to take Rachel’s throat out (her previous speeches of avoiding infighting forgotten for the moment), but Danny doesn’t feel like having to explain that to Grace, so he steps between them – playing at the peace broker even as he’s busy collecting the pieces of his heart from beneath the bottoms of Rachel’s shoes, rolling his eyes as his _yuhǔy_ calls Rachel things like _mompuw_ and _tihum_.

“She’s not fake and she’s not human,” Danny says, accepting a beer from his _kwoyǔ_ : Stella.

Stella herself is shaking her head at Danny, feeling sorry for him but keeping the words to herself and letting Clara say them for her. “What about Grace?” she asks.

Danny takes a pull from his beer and doesn’t answer the question. The lawyers on Rachel’s side were far better than the one on Danny’s, so it wasn't looking like the custody arrangements would be anything convenient for him.

 

-

 

Stan is half-blooded, he’s _kwuw_ - _wikte_ , and Danny’s instincts scream to kill him on sight. He’s tall and broad and already graying and he reeks of _pǔy_ _kwunsùm_ blood.

Full-blooded river fish were never very long-lived when they ran into other _wikte_ – again: instincts and all that – so that Stan had lived into his forties was proof enough to Danny that Stan was either very smart, or more human than _wikte_.

By the way Stan eagerly greets Danny, thrusting his hand out for Danny to shake, only a second too late in remembering that not only was Danny full-blooded, he was also the ex, and thus the bad guy, here – it all leaves Danny to assume that Stan was just woefully and painfully ignorant.

Stan’s _wapùet_ must have taught him how to lean into his humanity at an early age, that or his projected naivete was born of self-defense – either way and despite himself, Danny found it endearing. He huffs and finally shakes the proffered hand and wonders if this was what a lion felt when it adopted a wildebeest calf.

 

-

 

Moving to Hawai’i is the hardest thing Danny’s ever had to do.

It’s too hot – the surface is hot; the water is hot. There’s just no relief. No running, no escaping from it. And it’s taking nearly all of Danny’s magic to keep himself upright and mobile and sane those first few months as he gets acclimated.

Newark had its hot days, sure, but the family pool had always just been a car ride away – now it was hours and a thousand dollars away and Danny can’t spare neither the time nor the money.

On the days he’s really suffering, he closes his black-out curtains and fills his dinky bathtub with oceanwater and ice and submerges himself until only the flukes of his tail and his nostrils were exposed. He lets the frigidness seep down into his skin and muscles until he feels it in his bones and relaxes into it. He was _Kinsem_ - _Mochak_ – he was of the cold-dark, and while black-out curtains and a bath in iced oceanwater weren’t nearly comparable to the long hours spent in the family pool, it was the closest he could get in this hellscape.

 

-

 

Gracie doesn’t adapt as well, at first, either.

She needs the ice-and-oceanwater bath twice a week for almost a month before she stops seeing double during the hottest parts of the day. It’s during those baths, when Rachel’s pacing just outside, her steps loud to Danny’s ears despite being muffled by the carpet outside the bathroom, that Danny _really_ hates his ex-wife. She was the one who left, the one who brought him and Grace here to this goddamned  _skeksiksa yaw spotka_ , island of fire, though neither of them were designed to withstand it.

Stan at least has the decency to look apologetic and makes noises about setting up something similar to the family pool in their own backyard. Danny shuts it down, though, knowing that it’d raise too many questions; might send up all kinds of flashing neon signs to those who trafficked _wikte_.

“It’s one thing to have an ‘obstacle course’,” Danny says to Stan, making sure to deliberately enunciate his words, “it’s another to have your own private ice floe.”

Stan bows his head and nods demurely and once again Danny’s predator’s instincts rise to the forefront. He scrubs at his face, rubbing at his mouth where his teeth have begun to sharpen to points, and tries to force the _spiy_ back down.

He thinks about telling Stan that a salt-water pool would probably be okay, but they’re so close to the ocean that even that doesn’t pass muster to Danny’s admittedly-paranoid mind. So, he says nothing and sees himself to the door.

Rachel is there and she’s opening her mouth to say something, but she must catch the yellow tint in his eyes because she snaps her mouth closed and turns away from him.

 

-x-

 

Steve, of course, can’t let it go. That’s just how he is, and Danny knows this; understands it, even. And he sees the value of Steve’s tenacity every day that they work together. That doesn’t stop him from getting angry, though. He’s one more pointed comment away from blowing up when they get the case for, what else, “human” traffickers.

Someone from HPD had stumbled upon an empty shipping container during a drug bust that contained two buckets filled with piss and feces, a mattress, and thick metal bars that reached from floor to ceiling. There were also marks along the container walls – deep scouring tracks that Danny immediately recognizes as being made by claws.

Small claws.

Like a fryling’s.

Danny stares at them before he turns violently away from the team and starts digging out his phone. As soon as he’s ensconced in his office, he’s screaming at Rachel that she’s got to get Gracie back to the mainland – preferably back to Jersey, where Danny’s colony can protect her.

She tries to fight him, arguing that she and Grace have been in danger every day that Danny’s been a cop, and that they couldn’t uproot themselves – even for a few days – whenever there was the barest hint of a threat. Doing that wouldn’t solve anything except teach Grace to live her life in fear.

Danny, had he been a shade calmer, might have understood her point. But as it was, he was fighting to control his breathing and not drop fang with the rest of Five-O openly staring at him through the windows of his office (a wrestling match with Steve last week had broken the blinds and they had yet to be replaced).

Instead, through gritted teeth, Danny snarls, “This is not a negotiation. Get her things packed – you don’t want to go, then fine. But believe me when I say that Grace will not be spending another night in Hawai’i until I say so.”

Then he’s hanging up and he’s calling another number.

 

-

 

The perks of having the United States Navy owe your family a favor or five are long and numerous. One of those is that Danny can get Grace a lift back to New Jersey with MCPON and two Rear Admirals who “were heading that way, anyway, detective, don’t worry about a thing.”

Steve stares the entire time and Danny can physically see the way Steve is rewriting everything he knows about Danny as MCPON scoops Grace up and whirls her around, saying how long it’s been since he’d last seen her; as one of the Rear Admirals earnestly shakes Danny’s hand and the other just looks quietly at Steve.

“Before you go,” Danny calls out to the Admirals as he jerks his thumb over his own shoulder. “Can you, like, order him not to ask me any questions? Tell him ‘it’s classified’ for me – he might actually listen to you.”

Judging by the look on Steve’s face, the Admirals were in fact the only people Steve would listen to.

“You heard him, Commander,” says one of the Admirals, effecting a Very Serious Tone and leveling a Very Serious Look at Steve. “You’re not to pester Detective Williams about any of this. It’s classified.”

Steve is grinding his teeth so hard that Danny is sure he’ll either crack a tooth or break his jaw. In the end, neither happens before he nods his head and says, “Aye aye, Admiral,” even as he glares at Danny.

The Admiral nods, satisfied, and throws a wink at Danny before boarding the plane.

Danny ignores the holes Steve’s eyes are boring into his head as he waves at Gracie through a window. The plane begins to taxi away and it’s not wholly unlike when they’d seen Steve’s mother off that first time.

As soon as Grace is safe in the air, Danny sobers and he turns to Steve and says, “Why don’t we go see what Chin and Kono have been up to?”

 

-

 

Turns out Chin and Kono haven’t been up to much.

They just don’t have anything to go on – despite the copious amounts of DNA found in the shipping container, none of it returned any hits. Chin and Kono had since been dredging through missing persons cases – some of them over a decade old – looking for _something_ , though neither of them had been sure exactly _what_ , that might connect any one of the missing to each other or the shipping container.

“Danny,” Chin starts, “you know something. What is it?”

“And if you say it’s classified, I’m punching you,” Kono says, cutting in just as Danny’d opened his mouth.

Danny’s eyes track to the photographs of the container that filled one of the screens and decides that, while he may not be able to tell his team everything, he can at least give them something.

“The people you’re looking for aren’t in missing persons,” he says, his eyes fixating on those scratch marks. “They’re not in any system or data bank we will ever have access to. The only records of them that will ever exist are their faces in the backgrounds of photographs.”

It’s not entirely true, obviously.

Every _wikte_ has a birth certificate and social security number; some have even been fingerprinted. But. But should one go missing – they were never reported gone unless there was a known _wikte_ cop who could look during off-hours.

Danny’d been that cop for years up in Newark – serving not only his colony in New Jersey, but also the two that had lived in New York City – before he’d moved to Hawai’i. He’d been helped by two full-bloods at the NYPD, and three half-bloods.

To involve someone outside the colony would be to invite scrutiny and questions which would then, inevitably, lead to discovery. With tools like cameras available in every cell phone at the hands of nearly every individual – discovery of one, would be the discovery of all – _aspinsew yaw yate, aspinsew yaw yutǔ_ \- a phrase every fryling learns when they’re young.

What Danny needed was another _wikte_ – one with magic, one who could swim the waters for long periods without getting sick (when he and Steve had gotten stuck in the middle of the ocean, Danny had felt _kisu_ , shame, well up in his gut and curl in tight in his chest for being a _wikte_ unable to swim the water surrounding him; after that, Danny had forced himself into the water more, pushing himself to become more tolerant of the warmth of the Pacific – eventually getting to the point he could swim for an hour comfortably, three if he really wanted to push things and only if he spent most of his time in a dive, taking what comfort he could in the cooler waters of the ocean floor).

But _wikte_ folk were even harder to find on the islands than they had been in Danny’s corner of the mainland. So many of the full-bloods had been killed during the attack on Pearl Harbor – either in the initial attack or from wounds sustained from rescuing the wounded and drowning, and infections from retrieving the dead – that the only _wikte_ population that remained were those that were half-blooded or less. And among them, only a trace percentage had any access to their heritage magics.

When Danny had realized this, for the first time in a long time, he’d felt the full weight of the decline of the _wikte_. He’d been spoiled – growing up in what was relatively a thriving colony. He’d always known, abstractly, about the plight of his kind, but seeing it first hand like he had since arriving in Hawai’i had put it all into perspective – making it real.

He glares harder at the scratches.

Then, he wonders: maybe the Hawai’i _wikte_ weren’t necessarily scarce – what if they were just really good at hiding? It made sense. The island was small; it was constantly inundated with tourists and an ever-shifting military force made up of new faces every few years. What the natives called a _haole_ – _wikte_ called a _spipu ǔsachomi_ , an ugly visitor, an intruder. The _wikte_ would want to get as far away from them as they could.

Danny’s been in Hawai’i, on O'ahu long enough he thinks he’s got a sense of where to start looking. If he was right, he’d need to contact Kamekona for a lift in the helicopter – as much as the thought of riding with him physically pained Danny.

“I’ll be back,” Danny says, pushing himself away from the tech table and towards the doors.

“Danny—” Steve starts.

Danny cuts him off. “It’s classified!”

He’s almost out the door when Kono runs up to his side, gripping his arm tight and whispering lowly, “I know what you’re looking for.”

Danny turns to look at her, quirking an eyebrow – but the expression slides right off his face when he sees her conviction. He can read it in her eyes – he knows that she knows – and a mixed feeling of relief and trepidation wells up in his chest.

He nods his head jerkily and lets her follow him out to the car, as he taps Kamekona’s name in his contacts list and hits  _call_.

 

-

 

On the drive to the where Kamekona has his helicopter stashed, Kono tells Danny that the  _wikte_ folk were an open secret in certain surfing communities. They were leaders and looked to for guidance; they controlled who got into the water and who didn’t, who was part of the team and who wasn’t.

“I would think that Steve would know about them,” Kono says, after a pause.

“Maybe he does,” Danny says, shrugging even as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Maybe he doesn’t. Either way, it’s not my place to find out – I can’t stress that enough. If he does know – I would be thrilled, don’t get me wrong. But if he doesn’t –” Danny shrugs again, leaves the sentence hanging in the air and space between them.

“What if he’s just waiting for you to trust him?” Kono asks.

The question makes Danny flinch.

“It’s not my place,” Danny says again. “ _Aspinsew yaw yate, aspinsew yaw yutǔ_. You find one of us, you find all of us. It’s not just about me, Kono, it’s about all _wikte_ folk. We’re so few and getting fewer – and we can’t even go back to the water. In a hundred years, there probably won’t be any full-bloods left; and in another hundred, the magic will be gone, too. It’s a responsibility on us all to do everything we can to not speed up that process. Steve and his control issues will just have to learn how to deal.”

Kono gives him A Look and Danny sighs in resignation.

They both knew that Steve would find out – one way or another – it was just a matter of time and Danny sitting back and letting it happen.

 

-

 

They land on Niihau and Danny follows the soft tendrils of magic that leads deep into the forest. Kono eases their way with soft Hawai’ian words and promises until they find the hidden _wikte_ – it’s a colony of twenty-one. Nearly all were full-blooded; and they had indeed lost frylings to the traffickers.

“We tried to track the ships,” says Koene, one of the elders, her eyes staring out into the distance. “But they use large noise-makers – they’re loud, piercing down to your innards, and it wasn’t long before I and my swimmers had lost our way in the waters we had grown up in. By the time we got our bearings – it was too late.”

Danny scrubs a hand over his face.

“Okay,” he says, turns to Kono. “Okay, so we know that the traffickers are banking on the _wikte_ not talking, right?”

Kono nods, “Right – that’s why they use the noise-makers. It doesn’t matter how loud they are since no one’s going to come looking. They know they don’t necessarily _need_ to hide.”

Danny turns back to Koene, asks, “How long ago was the last fryling taken?”

Koene shares a look with her _kwoyǔ_ , Lii. “Last year,” she says. “They take three or four; coming every summer – when they know the colony has retreated from O'ahu to avoid the _spipu ǔsachomi_. We have tried setting up defenses, the _tihum_ who have mated into the colony stand guard – they get guns where they can, hire whatever help they can.”

“Not that it ever matters,” Lii cuts in, her eyes hard as she flicks her gaze from Danny to Kono and back again. “Frylings are still taken and we’ve had to bury many.”

“Not again,” Danny says, his throat tight. “It’s the _ǔsachomi_ season now – so if those _waǔsaspenǔ_ , those thieves come again, I promise you, _kwokǔhia_ , that I will be right here with you. You’re going to have the full might of the Five-0 task force with you this time. You won’t be alone.”

Koene and Lii share a look before turning back to Danny and Kono, nodding in unison. Then Danny and Kono pass out their cards with strict instructions that should the slightest hint of a _ǔsaspenǔ_ traffickers be spotted that they were to be called immediately.

 

-

 

The helicopter ride is silent, despite Kamekona’s most desperate attempts, but as Danny and Kono settle themselves back in the Camero and start towards HQ, Kono breaks the silence.

“Are you going to—”

“All Steve and Chin need to know is that there are kids in danger,” Danny says. “If they want specifics, they can ask afterwards. Right now, we need to focus on getting eyes on every shipping center on every island. We don’t know if they’re taking frylings from this one colony or if they go up and down the chain.”

Danny calls ahead and tells Chin what they need. Chin’s answers are short – friendly, but with an edge; it’s still more than what he gets out of Steve which was just a series of grunts until Danny finally snaps, “Listen up, asshole, I don’t have time for this and neither do the kids. We can’t be fighting with each other and the bad guys at the same time. Just do as your goddamned asked.”

Then he hangs up and throws his phone back down in the cupholder at his elbow.

Kono gives him another of her patented Looks, before she turns to watch the scenery roaring by, and once again the silence stretches and fills the car.

 

-

 

It takes a week for the traffickers to surface during which Kono informs Danny that Chin’s apparently already known about the _wikte_ and had figured Danny out the first day they’d met, Danny’s been served by Rachel with another change-in-custody order, and Steve has very pointedly not touched the keys to the Camaro once. Surprisingly, it’s that third thing that hurts Danny the most.

He consoles himself with the pictures _yuhǔy_ sends of Grace swimming in the family pool (all of which were carefully taken to keep Grace’s _ie_ out of view, of course). Danny changes the background of his phone to the one of Gracie mimicking the shot of the Disney mermaid posing on a rock – only Grace has climbed onto iceberg #3 and there’s a blur behind her of someone jumping cannonball style to create the splash for the picture.

Danny’s looking at the picture, his phone resting on the tech table as Chin and Kono study the footage in front of them. Danny’s about to pull up his own video feed, when his phone is snatched away.

“This is Vito’s place,” Steve says, looking up from Danny’s phone to Danny’s eyes.

Logically, Danny should have figured that Steve would have been one of the hundreds of military personnel to have trained at the family pool – but still, hearing his _akso’s_ name come out of Steve’s mouth does something to Danny’s brain, making it short-circuit, and leaving him blinking slowly at Steve as his mouth hangs open.

“You’re one of _those_ Williams?” Steve demands, suddenly stepping in closer – his eyes widened, his gaze intent.

Danny takes a step back on instinct before he remembers himself and plants his feet.

“I take it you’ve done the obstacle—”

“ _Danny_ ,” Steve interrupts, putting Danny’s phone back on the table so he could use both hands to grip Danny’s shoulders, “you’re one of _those_ Williams?”

This time, when Danny says, “It’s classified, Steven,” Steve just grins and pulls Danny into a too-tight, too-long hug before pulling back.

“You’re one of _those_ Williams,” he says.

“Careful, babe,” Danny says, “you keep sounding like a broken record and I’m going to assume you’ve had too many concussions and all that brain damage is permanent.”

Steve just grins.

“Now that we’re all _finally_ on the same page,” Chin says, cutting in swiftly, “I’ve got something.” Chin double-taps a video and swipes it from the table top to one of the screens – footage of two unconscious teens were being unloaded from a van and dragged into a shipping container.

“They’re not even trying to be subtle,” Kono says.

“They don’t need to be,” Danny reminds her, “they know the _wikte_ won’t be going to the cops. They’ll never see us coming.”

 

-

 

The takedown is easy – even through the requisite gunfire and blood and hostage-taking that ends with Danny and two _waǔsaspenǔ_ in the water. He thinks about letting them drown – knows that no one would blame him nor question him – but it’s not his frylings who’ve been taken, so it’s not him they need to answer to.

He does still let them drown a _little_ bit – feels their panicking in the water and Danny’s teeth sharpen instinctively in response. They scream as they reach for the surface, but Danny doesn’t let them all the way up just yet – he pulls them down, moving effortlessly in the water even weighted down by clothes and without the use of his _ie_. It’s not until their movements slow that Danny hauls them up to the surface, breaking through in a dramatic way and making a show of gulping in as much air as he could.

Steve is right there, leaning over the pier as if he was about to jump in after Danny had Danny been a second longer in coming up. Danny just winks up at him and passes one trafficker to him, and the other to the uniformed HPD officer, before hauling himself up – Steve grabbing the back of his shirt and helping. Except, as soon as Danny is on the pier, Steve keeps pulling Danny forward and forward, until Danny is practically in Steve’s lap, Steve’s arms wrapped tightly around him like an octopus.

“Alright, babe,” Danny says, going for soothing as he hugs back, patting Steve’s shoulder with one hand and rubbing soothing circles on Steve’s back with the other. “C’mon, easy, it’s okay. Look, I kinda drowned the suspects a little, they might need CPR.”

“EMTs can handle it,” Steve says, not letting go of Danny and not loosening his grip in the slightest.

Danny looks around as best he’s able and he sees that the EMTs already have the two suspects sitting up, Kono at the ready with handcuffs as Chin held his shotgun tight against his chest.

When Steve finally lets Danny pull back, Danny says, “I’m gonna go pick up Gracie. Want to come?”

 

-

 

Steve gets along stupidly well with Danny’s _kisǔ_ – like, to the point where Danny wants to brain himself as he watches the frylings clamber up and over Steve, slapping him with their _waie_ still wet from the pool as Steve begged for mercy, leaving Danny completely overwhelmed by the sight of it all.

Steve’s wearing his wetsuit, with his fins and goggles and snorkel waiting for him at the edge of the pool. Vito had turned the temperature of the water up for the frylings, but it was still too cool for Steve to swim in without the wetsuit.

“Alright, alright,” Danny says, when he can’t take it anymore, making shooing motions at the frylings. “Go on and get – it’s my turn with _akso_ Steve.”

The frylings giggle and begin moving back towards the pool before their _wapùet_ not-so-subtly start herding them away from the water and towards the locker rooms. Grace was resting atop the same iceberg she’d been pictured on before, iceberg #3, calling out to Danny and Steve to hurry.

“On our way, _wite_ ,” Danny calls out, pulling his shirt over his head and rolling his shoulders as he called his magic up, began to will himself through the _spiy_.He glances at Steve, checking on the man’s progress, but Steve is just staring at him, a dopey grin on his face. “What?”

“Nothing, Danno,” Steve answers, looking away to put the flippers on and to grab his mask.

Steve’s just about to put the mask on when Danny grins. Steve has just enough time to narrow his eyes before Danny has his arms around Steve and he’s pushing them both into the pool.

The chill of the water encircles them immediately and Danny welcomes the shock of it, uses it to push himself through the _spiy_ faster as he pushes Steve down, down, down into the water. And Steve just lets him, he doesn’t struggle – doesn’t even pretend to – and it’s such a display of trust that Danny feels himself losing his mind all over again as he buries his nose into the crook of Steve’s neck, biting at the fabric of the wetsuit.

In his arms, Steve shivers and Danny knows it’s not just from the cold of the water.

He wants to keep biting, but then there’s the distant sound of a body hitting the water and the next thing Danny knows – he’s in a tug-of-war with Gracie over Steve. Danny makes a big show of losing to Gracie’s strength as he surrenders Steve, Gracie grinning wide at him as she helps Steve to the surface.

Danny follows them after a beat. When he surfaces, Gracie, who’s attached herself to Steve’s back, her arms around his neck and her _ie_ swinging side-to-side to help them both tread water, is already yelling at him for trying to drown her _akso_ Steve and how unfair that is considering he’s just been welcomed into the colony. Danny arranges his face so that he looks appropriately apologetic.

“You’re right, _kwum wite_ ,” he says, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay, Gracie,” Steve says, “we both know Danno wouldn’t let me drown.” Then he turns back to Danny. “Also, at some point, you’re gonna have to start translating some of these words, because I have no idea what you’re saying.”

“Annoying, isn’t it?” Danny asks, pushing forward with his _ie_ so he was in Steve’s face. “Not knowing what’s going on?”

Steve lifts his hands in surrender, jostling Gracie slightly, who was still attached to him like a barnacle, “Alright, fine, I get it.”

“I don’t think you do,” Danny says. “Gracie, do you think he does?”

And because Gracie is a traitor she sides with Steve and Danny has to wrestle both of them as he goes to dunk Steve into the water once more – Steve barely having time to fit his goggles in place, though he does lose the snorkel to the depths of the pool. Danny can’t take Steve on a tour of the pool’s cave system without scuba gear, but that’s okay because he knows that Steve’s seen them before.

Instead, they chase each other around and through the icebergs and if Gracie and Danny find themselves showing off a bit – jumping through the air and zipping around Steve at speed, well, neither of them can really be blamed for it. Not when Steve’s looking at them with such wonder.

Grace is resting once more on her iceberg and Steve is perched on the lip of the pool, half out of his wetsuit, his fins still in the water as Danny drifts between his legs, anchoring himself with his arms dropped over Steve’s thighs. Steve’s leaning over him, his fingers tracing the webbing of Danny’s hands down to the sharpened points of Danny’s claws, even as he keeps his eyes on the movement of Danny’s _ie_ , watching the way the dappling of brown and grey catch in the water-refracted lighting.

Then, just because he can, Danny slips out from Steve’s grip and with a powerful shove from his _ie_ , splashes Steve with a wall of water. Even under the surface, Danny can enjoy the look of Steve’s sputtering surprise as he tries to yell at Danny. Danny grins and pushes himself deeper into the pool, waving innocently at Steve.

And because Steve is Steve and Danny forgot for a minute that Steve was crazy, Steve shrugs off the rest of his wetsuit and just fuckin’ _dives_ in, chasing after Danny, and Steve isn’t even completely in the water before Danny is surging forward. He grabs Steve around the middle, hitting him like a bullet because that’s obviously the only kind of force Steve acknowledges, and keeps going, pumping his _ie_ hard, the flex of his powerful muscles working so that, in just a matter of seconds, Steve is already back out of the water, grinning like a loon as Danny slams him to the ground and Danny’s propping himself up on his hands so he could look Steve in the eyes proper to yell at him.

Danny’s taking a breath to do just that – to yell about the dangers of hypothermia and how humans did not have the physiology required to withstand—

Then Danny’s brain does that thing again where it grinds to a halt because Steve’s got a hand on the back of Danny’s neck and he’s pulling Danny down and then he’s _kissing_ Danny – kissing Danny like neither of them need air.

Behind them, Gracie makes a gagging noise.

Danny, though, just grins and, against his lips, he can feel Steve grinning right back.

 

-z-

 

End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Then they go back to Hawai'i and get married and live a long and happy life of causing extraordinary amounts of property damage.
> 
> Big secrets that aren't really secret is one of my favorite things and this fic is a love song to that. Hope y'all enjoyed it!
> 
> 6/16 Update: Some new content has been added and the glossary updated.


	2. kinsack (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny teaches Junior how to be the best _mipa sehas_ he can be, and a trip to the open ocean goes awry in the worst possible way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--Has more Kùtki and less immediate translation than in the previous chapter; glossary tumblr post is [here](https://amosanguis.tumblr.com/post/185739868640/vocab-for-one-page-at-a-time-ch-2).  
> \--Please note the **updated tags** because we do get a bit more angsty here, folks.  
> \--Going from S3 pre-slash to early-S8 established relationship. I have some very loose plans to fill in the gaps, but nothing is definite.  
> \--Has not been beta'd; please forgive all mistakes or kindly point them out.  
> \--Author is a well-traveled via Google Maps

-z-

 

Danny skips the entire waking up process that he’s come to treasure – there’s a moment where he’s dreaming about kicking up ocean-floor sand as he hunts, and then he’s just _awake_ – light of the _spotkayai_ streaming in through the curtains.

But that’s not what woke him and Danny’s on his feet and out the door and his feet are carrying him down the stairs – all in the span of a scant few seconds, and just in time for Steve to put his hand on the knob of the front door.

“Don’t open that,” Danny snaps, his mouth moving before his brain.

“Someone just knocked,” Steve counters, because, to him, whenever someone knocked you had to answer the door – it’d be _rude_ to ignore it.

And Danny’s still trying to catch up with himself – still trying to figure out what it was that’d woken him up, what it was that had him moving. He stares at the door and every instinct is yelling at him to leave that door closed, to get Steve away from it and leave it closed. But Danny’s staring a little too long because Steve’s already moving and he’s opening the door.

“Steven—” Danny snaps, not even bothering to be careful of the coffee in Steve’s hand as he reaches up and grabs Steve by the back of the collar and jerks him backwards and behind Danny as Danny moves to look outside—

—and Danny sees immediately what it was that’d kicked his protective instinct into gear.

There was a _sehas_ on Steve’s porch – a goddamned _shark_ on Steve’s porch.

 

 

Danny advances with a snarl and lets his eyes flash to yellow and that _mipa sehas_ steps back quickly and his arms flail as he almost topples right off Steve’s porch – his arms windmilling wildly for balance before the shark is putting his hands up and out, trying to slow Danny.

The _sehas_ is staring slack-jawed at Danny, his eyes wide with something like awe. Or maybe it was trepidation. Either way, it was making Danny uncomfortable and he doesn’t keep the harshness from curving around the lilting cadence of his question—

“ _Chu a mo mikay, sehas?_ ”

The _sehas_ gives just the barest shake of his head and his brows furrow in confusion, his head cocking to the side.

“ _Mo spia kemipùmpa K_ _ùtki?_ ” Danny asks, feeling suddenly wrong-footed. His body had woken him up for a fight and here he was – opposite a baby-faced shark who didn’t seem to know the language of the ocean.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the kid says, and his eyes are darting over Danny’s shoulder – more than likely looking at Steve who Danny could now hear coming out of the house, “I don’t know what you’re saying to me.”

“Oh, I’ll just repeat myself then,” Danny snaps. “What do you want, _shark?_ ”

“Shark?” the kid repeats, sounding as if he were choking on the word.

“What are you a broken record?” Danny asks, stepping back and giving the kid a once over – only just then taking in the uniform and that little patch that indicates, oh shit, the kid was not only Navy, he was also a SEAL. “Ah, lookit you,” Danny says, pointing to the trident, before he turns and waves Steve closer. “Steven, _se_ _mipa_ _sehas_ isn’t one of my kind – he’s one of yours; he’s _chui ǔsakùnso_.”

“You keep calling him all kinds of things,” Steve says, “why don’t you actually give him a chance to introduce himself.”

Danny turns and faces the kid fully, sticking one hand in the pocket of his pajama bottoms and using the other to wave at the stranger.

“You’re right, you’re right,” Danny says, “I would love to know the name of _se_ _sehas_ who can’t speak his own language.”

“I’m SO2 Junior Reigns,” the kid says, straightening his back as he locks eyes briefly, but with a certain intensity, with Steve that has Danny raising an eyebrow, before Junior looks back at Danny – as if wanting to keep track of him. “I was just processed out of the Navy, sirs, and I’m looking for a job with Five-0.”

Danny’s initial instinct is to laugh right in the kid’s face, but then Steve’s speaking.

“You didn’t answer the other question,” he says. “Why don’t you speak _K_ _ùtki_?”

Junior flicks his eyes down – a moment of self-doubt and something else that Danny can’t identify – before Junior’s looking back up at them. “My father didn’t allow it,” he says.

“You’re full-blooded,” Danny says, not quite comprehending what he was hearing. What _wikte_ household didn’t allow _K_ _ùtki_?

“Danny,” Steve says, voice soft as he barely presses his shoulder against Danny’s – a gesture asking Danny to drop it.

Danny doesn’t look away from Junior.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, sir,” Junior says, his voice quiet as he steadily meets Danny’s gaze.

Danny can sense there’s more to the story – all kinds of alarm bells are going off in his head, all his time as a detective hasn’t been for nothing – and he wants to press it, but there was something else inside him telling him to _wait_. _Just wait_.

“So, you want to join Five-0,” Steve says, picking up on Danny’s silence and filling it with his own voice.

“Yes, sir,” Junior says. “Master Chief Lang sent me in your direction. I know about your task force and the work you’re doing. I think I would be a good asset to you and your team.”

Danny can see Steve nodding out of the corner of his eye and he turns to look at Steve, wondering what Steve’s next move was going to be.

“I appreciate the initiative, Junior,” he says, “but, uh, we’re not really hiring right now.”

Danny thinks about saying that they’re always hiring because they really need all the help they can get, but then Danny thinks about Tani and how new she was and how he, Steve, Lou, and Jerry were still feeling each other out with the sudden loss of Chin and Kono. Steve, despite his occasional brashness and inability to think things through when his adrenaline was going, did tend to always have a reason for what he did when it came to the people around him.

“I understand, sir,” Junior says to Steve, though he’s glancing at Danny.

“Don’t look at me, _sehas_ ,” Danny says, though his voice is teasing. “I can’t help you here. Though, I can give you some advice, since your parents apparently neglected etiquette lessons when they decided not to teach you _K_ _ùtki_. Ready?”

Junior nods and Danny could swear the kid’s hands twitched like he was ready to pull out a pencil and piece of paper to take actual notes and maybe he wouldn’t be such a bad addition to the team – he and Steve would get along well (probably too well and then Danny wouldn’t have just one _chui ǔsakùnso_ to care for, but two, and he’s not sure his heart could handle that).

Danny brushes off the thought, and continues: “Don’t walk up to a nest before—” Danny stops himself, his stomach sinking, “—wait, did you even know that this was a nest?” Danny jerks his thumb over his shoulder.

Danny had set up signs – nothing flashy, just basic _waot_ that were visible only to other _wikte_ to warn them that one of their own lived here, that this was a protected space. And Danny’s watching with growing horror as Junior just gives him a small shrug as he shakes his head.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Danny says, affronted.

“ _Oh_ ,” Junior says, suddenly perking up and looking over his shoulder, at one of the trees in the front yard, “does that have something to do with that glowing thing on the tree over there?”

“ _That glowing thing_ ,” Danny repeats, his hands coming up to more clearly gesticulate his growing frustration, “that glowing thing, _sehas_ , is an _ot_. It’s a sign. A warning. It’s _supposed_ to let other _wikte_ know that they need to do more than just _knock_ on the damn door before they approach my house.”

Before Steve can cut in that this was technically _their_ house, Danny’s herding Junior off the front porch and towards the tree and the _ot_ Danny’s magic had carved into it.

“Okay, _mipa sehas_ ,” Danny says, stopping in front of the _ot_ and gesturing to it, “when you first saw this – _first_ saw this – what was your initial reaction? What did your instincts tell you to do?”

“I don’t, um,” Junior says, glancing back at Steve.

Not finding help there, he takes a breath and looks at the _ot_. He stares at it for a beat before he’s shaking his head again.

“Honestly, sir, I don’t know? I saw it and my mind processed it, but I didn’t, um, my instincts didn’t say anything. I’ve been trained to observe and detect threats and this _ot_ ,” Junior had hesitated at the word, looking at Danny for confirmation on his pronunciation or usage or both, only continuing when Danny nods, “my mind dismissed this _ot_ as a threat.”

Danny feels himself shaking his head and he wants to maybe hit something.

“Junior,” he says carefully, because for all that they’re both _wikte_ , the _sehas_ in front of him was desperately human – Junior’s parents hadn’t done the boy any favors by not teaching him their ways, for whatever reason they may or may not have had, and if Danny had been jumpier, had maybe a less capable partner – Junior could just as easily have found himself in a fight, one he wouldn’t have been prepared for, SEAL or no.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Junior says, hesitating again.

“You’re lucky, _mipa sehas_ ,” Danny says as he puts his hands on his hips, glancing at the _ot_ and at Steve and at their house. “Your morning could have been a lot worse. This could have gone very differently.”

Junior glances at the _ot_ , asks, “So what was I supposed to do?”

Danny says, “When you see one of these,” he points at the _ot_ , “you stand next to it and you wait. If it’s urgent, you can send out a little _kippù_ , magic, like throwing a balled-up piece of paper, to get the attention of the _wikte_ who lives here. Do you know how to do that? Oh my god, do you even know how to _spiy_? Please tell you’ve at least shifted before?”

“My dad would rent a boat occasionally and we’d go out as far as we could and he’d let us swim a little bit,” Junior says, and something inside Danny unclenches a little, because at least the boy’s had that. “But as we got older, the noise in the ocean got harder for us, so,” Junior shrugs, leaves the sentence unfinished.

“You never learned how to use your _kippù_ to dull the sounds?” Danny asks.

Junior shakes his head. “The only reason my mom ever showed me how to even control my shift was because I was going into the Navy and she didn’t want me changing in the middle of boot camp.”

Danny sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, resolves to never meet Junior’s parents.

“Look,” Danny says, “if you want, if you’re interested, I can help you out. I can teach you some _Kùtki_ and a little about _kippù_. If you think you’re good, though, since you’ve made it this far without help – well,” Danny shrugs, because Junior’s not looking at him, instead he’s looking at the ground between their feet.

Danny lets the silence linger between them, glancing over at Steve who was still standing on the porch, leaning against the column and taking sips of his coffee as he watched them. And Danny’s just about to start walking back to the house when Junior clears his throat.

Junior’s still looking at the ground when he speaks, asks, “Sir, can you just tell me what ‘ _mipa sehas_ ’ is?”

“ _Mipa_ is young,” Danny answers, “ _sehas_ is shark.”

“How did you know? That I was a shark?” Junior asks.

“Each _wikte_ species has different feeling _kippù_ ,” Danny answers. “I’ve been around a while, I’ve worked with and alongside a lot of different _wikte_ , so I just know.”

Junior nods like he understands even as he glances back at Steve. Then he says to them both, “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me. I’m just gonna grab my stuff and I’ll get out of your hair.”

Danny nods and walks with Junior back to the porch so Junior could grab the bag he’d dropped by the door, then they shake hands and Junior does the same with Steve.

“Be good, _sehas_ ,” Danny says. “We’ll see you around.”

“You bet,” Junior says, nodding, and there’s something of a twinkle of mischief in his eye that makes Danny’s eyes narrow – but then Junior is disappearing around the corner.

 

-

 

Danny nearly drops his phone when Steve tells him that he’d caught Junior washing the truck.

“Lou says he’s kissing the wrong ass,” Steve says.

Danny tucks the phone securely between his shoulder and his ear as he re-baits the fishing line for Grace.

“Just tell him to wash the Camaro when he’s done with the truck,” Danny says.

“I told him that he’s gotta get through the Academy before we take him,” Steve says, explaining that he wants to see how Junior will react to doing something that is obviously below his skillset.

“So, you’re telling me that you’re giving the SEAL busy work just to? What? See if he gets mad?”

“To see if he’ll do it,” Steve counters.

Danny rolls his eyes as he passes over the newly baited pole over to Grace, who accepts it with one hand and makes a grabbing motion at Danny’s hand with the other—

“I want to talk to _Akso_ Steve,” she says.

“ _Akso_ Steve is wrangling _wasehas_ —”

“Is that Grace?” Steve cuts in. “Let me talk to her.”

Danny mutters about being nothing more than chopped liver even on Maui, before nonetheless passing the phone over to Grace.

 

 

Three days pass and Danny drops Grace off with Rachel, only minimally baring his teeth at Stan for no other reason than to watch the _pǔy kwunsùm_ squirm. Danny feels Rachel glaring at his back as he leaves the house, and maybe it’s a little mean-spirited, but Danny’s tired and he just wants to get home and curl around Steve and not see another person’s face until it’s time to head back to work.

He’s exhausted by the time he (fuck, _finally_ ) reaches home and Steve’s waiting for him out on the front porch. And so is _se_ _mipa sehas_.

“Something I need to know?” Danny asks with a smirk. Part of him is screaming for a fight at the invasion of his nest, but the other part, a bigger part, is simply curious.

Steve jogs off the porch – giving Danny a tender kiss to the cheek as his wraps himself around Danny in a big welcome-home hug, squeezing Danny tight. Danny would be suspicious, but Steve has always been handsy and extra squid-like whenever they haven’t seen each other for more than a couple hours. Then he pulls back a little, just enough to look Danny in the eye.

“The kid doesn’t have anywhere else to go,” he says. “I found him in a shelter, Danno; I can’t let him stay there.”

And Danny sighs because he knows that look in Steve’s eyes – it’s the same look he gives Danny every time there’s someone around who could use a little extra looking after and Steve’s determined to be the person who gives it to them. And, dammit, Danny is helpless. He’s so far gone for Steve—

“Okay, babe,” Danny says. “ _Se_ _mipa sehas_ can stay.”

Steve just grins wide as he gives Danny another kiss before taking Danny’s bag for him – always a gentleman – and leads Danny back towards the house.

Junior was standing on the porch, looking for all the world like he was actually holding his goddamn breath – waiting to see what Danny was going to say – and, with each passing second, looking as if he was expecting Danny to kick him back to the curb. It was fucking _heartbreaking_.

“ _Sketkùmpichik, sehas_ ,” Danny says, clapping Junior on the shoulder and giving him a light shove towards the front door. “The first thing I’m gonna do with you is teach you _K_ _ùtki_. We can’t have you running around Hawaii not knowing _K_ _ùtki_.”

Junior’s eyes are wide but he’s nodding his head like he’s ready to agree to whatever Danny demands of him.

“ _Spǔt yu kechuk?_ ” Danny asks. “Yes or no?”

Junior squints his eyes in thought, before he hazards: “S _pǔt?_ Is that ‘yes’?”

Danny nods and instinctually a part of him wants to give Junior a cookie or something – some kind of reward, like how he does with Steve whenever Steve had decided that he wanted to learn _K_ _ùtki_ (except that the kind of rewards Danny gives Steve for getting a word or inflection right are not rewards Danny’s willing to use on Junior). So instead, Danny grabs a piece of candy (old, from Halloween) from the bowl by the couch and hands that to Junior.

Junior looks between the candy and Danny and then back down to the candy. But before he can fully process that he’s being rewarded with a three-month old Snickers, Steve has already snatched it from Danny’s hand and taken off.

“Literally stealing candy from children?” Danny shouts after Steve. “ _Mo wisi,_ Steven! _Mo wisi!_ ”

 

-

 

Junior takes to _K_ _ùtki_ like, well, like a shark takes to water. In between Junior’s time at the Academy and Danny’s time with Five-0, Danny teaches Junior the basics of the ocean language – Steve usually sitting right beside Junior and the lessons quickly devolve into an intense competition between the two of them.

One of Danny’s favorite games is _K_ _ùtki_ charades where he points or gestures at a thing or body part, or if they have the paper, he’ll draw, and then he just sits back and watches as Steve and Junior try to out-yell each other in guessing what the _K_ _ùtki_ word for whatever was pointed at/drawn was.

Grace had managed to con her way into a game once, though Danny had warned both Junior and Steve that even though they had come a long way – Grace was fluent.

Grace could keep up with her _wayaki_. Of course, Steve and Junior had ignored him – like fools, listening to the way Grace promised she’d take it easy on them, and that Danny was just exaggerating.

She had then promptly wiped the floor with them and Danny was torn between pride in his daughter and frustrated that he now had to work on rebuilding Steve and Junior’s confidence.

 

-

 

Learning _K_ _ùtki_ is one thing.

Learning to _spiy_ is another.

 

-

 

Danny teaches Junior first how to reach for his _kippù_ —

 

-

 

“You know like when you’re hungry? Your _kippù_ is around there—”

“My magic is in my stomach?”

“Look, it’s easier than saying it’s in your magic center or whatever. Wait, you’re like Steve, you know that ache in your core? When you’ve done too many sit-ups? Which for you is probably, like, a thousand—”

Junior snorts, as if offended by the idea of being able to _only_ do a thousand sit-ups. Danny pushes through, though he isn’t above flicking water at Junior’s face from where the two of them are standing in the waist-deep water just off the McGarrett stretch of private beach.

“Just,” Danny gestures to Junior’s core, “close your eyes. Now. Look for your _kippù, sehas_.”

Junior does as he’s told. He closes his eyes and makes a few different SEAL Concentration Faces that Danny is depressingly familiar with.

“Keep your eyes closed, _sehas_ ,” Danny says, his voice lowering, “I’m gonna give you a little nudge.”

Danny reaches out the smallest tendril of his own _kippù_ ; he opens his eyes wide – opens up his sight more, takes in all of Junior. And it’s, god, it’s _sad_. Junior’s _kippù_ has been locked down tight for years, shoved down deep and hidden and forgotten – and Danny’s half-afraid of what’s going to happen if all of it bursts forth all at once. So, as he’s reaching out with that one small tendril, he shores up reserves, readies himself just in case something goes wrong—

And Danny sees that moment of recognition on Junior’s face – watches as Junior’s eyes snap open and his eyes are filled with gold—

“ _Mumi, sehas_ ,” Danny whispers, “just stay calm.”

Junior’s breath quickens and he’s staring hard at Danny and the way Junior’s lips are protruding, Danny knows Junior’s dropped fang and it makes Danny instincts kick up and he feels his own eyes yellow as his own gums start to itch.

“ _Mumi_ ,” Danny says again, louder this time, and he’s not sure if he’s still talking to Junior or to himself or to the both of them – all he knows is that he’s praying that Steve isn’t stupid enough to leave the lanai to intervene in whatever is or isn’t about to happen (because if Steve gets involved, Danny won’t be able to control himself – especially if Junior follows his awakening instincts and goes for whatever _tihum_ crosses his path).

Junior’s hands curl into fists and his lips curl up to reveal fang and Danny decides against waiting any more for this to escalate – he just lets the _kippù_ he had shored up crash down over Junior.

(The first time Danny had acted out of turn and his _yuhǔy_ had done this exact thing – it had been suffocating. Like being caught in an undertow – one he couldn’t break away from, one that kept him from the surface no matter how hard he tried. It had been a lesson hard learned, but well remembered.)

The change in Junior is immediate.

His eyes return to their normal color and his fangs recede and, as soon as he remembers how to speak, a litany of apologies fall from his lips. Apologies that Danny is quick to wave away.

“We’ve all been there,” Danny says, his voice low as he makes sure that he has Junior’s full and undivided. “Our instincts are usually good and worth listening to – you’ll get there, okay? Let’s take a little break and then we’ll try again. This time you’ll know what to expect.”

Junior looks dubious, but Danny just offers him a reassuring smile and leads him up to the lanai, where Steve was waiting with freshly grilled steaks.

 

-

 

—then, next, Danny shows him how to control his _spiy_ —

 

-

 

After an intense week of Danny and Junior standing in that waist-deep water as Junior slowly learns to not only recognize and then call on his _kippù_ , Danny shows him how to take that _kippù_ and use it to initiate a shift.

They start with the little things – changing eye-color, dropping fangs, unsheathing claws – all done with deliberate intention this time.

Then Danny moves them deeper into the water.

“What I want you do for this,” he says, “I want you to drop your guard. Let your instincts take over—”

“But I thought—”

“I know,” Danny interrupts, “I know I said control is important and all that – but this? This is the hardest thing to teach. When you’re young, your instincts are what guide you through your first _spiy_ , so I don’t know how else to teach it. What we’ve been doing over the past week is awakening those instincts, Junior, you’ve had them hidden so long you’ve forgotten their voice. Now you know what they sound like. And I want you listen to them.”

Junior nods. Then he smiles and says, “Hey, you used my name.”

Danny rolls his eyes with exaggeration, says, “Just—. Are you ready, Junior?”

Junior is still smiling as he nods.

“Good,” Danny says. Then he’s slapping the water and adding, “Now, it’s gonna be loud, so you won’t be changed for long. Just chase after me, okay? The chase will kick your instincts up.”

And he doesn’t even give Junior time to respond – he just dives under the water and by the time he’s touching the seabed, his swim shorts have been abandoned and his _ie_ is propelling him far out and away from the shore.

Junior immediately gives chase and there’s a frantic moment of splashing where Danny doesn’t even have to look to know that Junior’s stuck in the _spiy_. So Danny whirls around and does something he thinks might help Junior’s _kipp_ _ù_ figure itself out – Danny attacks the struggling shark.

Danny is quick – he gets in Junior’s space just long enough to scrape his fangs against the meat of Junior’s shoulder – and then he’s right back out of arm’s reach with the barest flick of his muscled tail.

It does the trick.

The shock of the pain pushes Junior’s _kipp_ _ù_ to complete the _spiy_.

Junior was no longer just _se mipa sehas_ – Danny now gets a good look at him and he sees Junior’s nothing other than _se yoki sehas_.

He was a striped shark.

A tiger shark.

He was ten kinds of danger wrapped in a pretty package and Danny feels the thrill of that danger run up his spine. But it’s soon cut short because Junior’s only been chasing him for all of ten minutes before he’s crumpling on himself – his hands clutching his head in pain.

Slowly, Danny swims up to Junior, using his own _kipp_ _ù_ to drown out the noise of the ocean as they move their way back towards shore, wrapping it around Junior like a cloak – or rather, like a large pair of noise-cancelling headphones.

Danny swims out ahead of Junior to gather both pairs of shorts before circling back around, making a mental note to himself to get Junior an _amakna_.

Once they’re as close to shore as either of them can comfortably swim, Danny nudges Junior’s _kipp_ _ù_ into the _spiy_ , and this time, Junior doesn’t get stuck. Danny takes Junior’s arm and hauls that _mipa sehas_ up onto the beach, where Junior collapses – his hands immediately going to his head, his eyes closed tight.

“Breathe, _sehas_ ,” Danny says, repeating the words like a mantra. “It’s going to be rough the first few times – I helped you today, but your _kipp_ _ù_ is going to have to figure out how to react to the noise. You’ll have to build your tolerance up as best you can over time.”

Junior makes a small noise at that, shifting so he pressing the heels of his palms into his eyeballs.

“C’mon, _yoki sehas_ ,” Danny says, tapping Junior’s shoulder (not the one Danny had scraped, though those wounds were healing quick and would likely be nothing but barely-there scars in just a couple of days) with one hand as he tosses Junior’s shorts at him with the other. “We need some malasadas. The sugar will be good for you.”

“I can’t move,” Junior mutters.

“Yeah, you can,” Danny singsongs as he himself stands. He then nudges Junior with his foot, adds, “C’mon. It’ll be better than sitting under _se spotkayai._ ”

 

-

 

—and the training goes on for weeks, until, confident, Danny takes Junior out to the deep, a trip to an underwater mountain range just south of the island of Nihoa; it’ll take two days if they make good time – where there’s less human noise and fewer human eyes; where they’ll be the only ones for miles and miles around; where not even a radio signal could find them.

 

-

 

Steve was going to come with them, just as he always comes with Danny – to, as he sells it, “keep his deep-sea diving skills honed” – but then he gets a call from the governor, wanting a quick solve to the murder of two tourists.

Danny had offered to postpone the trip, but Steve had simply waved him off, told him he had Lou and Tani and Jerry, that the case was nothing they couldn’t handle and they’d probably have it solved by the time Danny and Junior got back.

“Just don’t get yourself shot while I’m gone,” Danny had said. “Can you do that for me, babe?”

“Of course, Danno,” Steve answered before leaning down for a lingering kiss. “Just don’t get yourself hooked on any fishing lines.”

Danny fakes a laugh before pulling Steve down for another kiss to chase away Steve’s stupid (adorable) grin. When they part, Danny whispers against Steve’s lips, “ _Saspǔwik mo._ ”

“ _Saspǔwik mo_ ,” Steve whispers back.

 

-

 

“I don’t do hot water very well,” Danny says, shrugging out of his shirt, “so you’ll be swimming mostly by yourself, while I take to the deep. You gonna be okay with that?”

“Sounds good,” Junior says, his eyes bright and already tinged yellow in his excitement.

Danny grins back as he does one last check of the horizon – ensuring they were well and truly alone – and the anchor – since it wouldn’t do to have his boat wandering off with the currents. Then he adjusts his _amakna_ , and remembers something—

“Tell me how that thing fits,” he says to Junior, gesturing at Junior’s own _amakna_ – it’s color matched Junior’s shark skin well, and even bore the same strongly bolded tiger-striped markings that Junior had yet to grow out of. _Akso_ Vito had dropped the _amakna_ off himself, said he couldn’t believe Danny was keeping the company of sharks these days until he saw it for himself.

“It fit well last time,” Junior says.

“Last time you weren’t swimming for more than twenty minutes,” Danny counters.

And then he’s done talking and, with one last deep breath, he dives over the railing – human legs becoming an _ie_ before he’s even completely submerged. Danny watches the surface just long enough to ensure that Junior completed his _spiy_ without a hitch, then, with a small wave at _se mipa sehas_ – Danny turns for the darkness of the deep, and dives.

 

 

Danny relishes in the cold of the deep – lets it soothe him; he speeds through the darkness, whirling and spinning and dancing in and out of the currents, hunting and chasing whatever else around him moves; the weight of the ocean above a crushing pressure he enjoys battling against – always pushing himself to go just one more foot deeper.

Whenever he returns to the surface for a breath, he checks in on Junior – _se mipa sehas_ doing a dance of his own, the glint of his gills, slitted openings along his ribs, catching in the sun as he twists after a school of tuna. For a brief moment, Danny envies _wasehas_ and their ability to breathe underwater – but he quickly pushes away the thought.

Junior must sense Danny coming because he’s suddenly twisting away from his fish and spinning to watch Danny ascend from the deep. Junior meets him half-way and then together they breech the surface – the first breath Junior takes through his mouth sending a signal to his _kipp_ _ù_ so seal up the gills.

“This is amazing,” Junior says, twisting so he was floating on his back, his _ie_ swishing lazily in the water.

Danny laughs and rolls over, mimicking Junior’s position. “ _A kit keyuske insim hichey_ ,” he says, enjoying the feel of _K_ _ùtki_ rolling off his tongue as he closes his eyes against _se spotkayai_. The heat of the day wasn’t entirely comfortable, but Danny was willing to endure it for a few more moments of lazy swimming beside Junior before he began another dive.

 

 

Danny’s just coming up from his third dive when alarm bells begin going off in his head. Those alarm bells sounding a lot like a goddamn ship propeller. One that was closing in and closing in fast.

Danny’s leisurely pace quickens and he’s racing to the surface as fast as his _ie_ can propel him through the water. Just above him, swimming in tight, anxious circles, is Junior – who was at a further depth than he had been all day, obviously having wanted to come down for Danny, but unable to withstand the pressure.

Danny doesn’t slow in his ascent, just rockets by Junior – grabbing the _mipa sehas_ by the arm and dragging him along to the surface, towards the back of their boat where they would be able to climb aboard, unnoticed.

The approaching ship sounded like a large one, no doubt investigating what they might think to be someone in distress.

Danny shifts and hauls himself onto the boat in one smooth motion and immediately goes to raise the anchor. He grabs a set of binoculars and begins scanning the horizon in the direction of the ship and immediately spots it – it’s a large fishing trawler.

“ _Danny_ ,” Junior whispers, “what do we do?”

“ _Mumi, mipa sehas_ ,” Danny says, setting down the binoculars and starting up the boat. “ _Mumi_.”

By the time the anchor is secured, and Danny has them turned eastward and heading for home – the boat’s radio has crackled to life. With a quick flick of his wrist, Danny turns it off and speeds up.

“You really think we can outrun them?” Junior asks.

“They just want the tuna you were playing with,” Danny says, stumbling over his English a bit as the heat and his fear of discovery chase away the last of the relaxing chill of the deep from his bones.

“Speaking of,” Junior says, lifting a finger, his tone deliberately light as he turns away from Danny and opens up the two electric coolers behind them, gesturing wide at their contents: four fat bigeye tuna. “I grabbed us some grub while you went to brood in the dark.”

“You’ve been hanging around Steve too long,” Danny says, affecting an annoyed tone even as he glances towards the trawler – telling himself that it wasn’t getting bigger; that his eyes, that his absolutely perfect eyesight, was simply lying to him. “I don’t brood.”

“You brood a little bit,” Junior teases.

Danny snorts and glances over his shoulder again and the trawler behind them was noticeably smaller.

“Think they’re giving up the chase?” Junior asks, his voice small, hesitant to hope.

“Like I said, they were just after the tuna.” Danny watches Junior nod out of the corner of eye, then does what he can to coax a little more speed from the boat.

“Got it in one, _yayo_ ,” Junior says – and then immediately ducks out of Danny’s reach so Danny’s swatting at nothing but air.

“‘ _Yayo_ ’,” Danny snaps. “ _A kutmotse maùm mo skùtsi_.”

Junior laughs again and, for just a moment, everything is fine. But then, expecting the trawler to now be far behind them, Danny glances over his shoulder and sees the exact opposite – the trawler is now nearly on them.

And then Danny sees the drone flying just alongside them.

 

 

“No matter what happens,” Danny says to Junior, his eyes never leaving the drone’s camera lens pointing right at them. “Don’t get into the water.”

“Wouldn’t we be safer in the water?” Junior asks.

“Not if they’ve got noise-makers,” Danny says. “I might be able to keep a barrier up around us for a little bit, but not nearly long enough for us to get away.” Danny cuts the throttle. As he moves to stand over by the railing to watch as the towering trawler slows and pulls up alongside, his voice is cold as he adds: “If the noise-makers are powerful enough, they’ll disorient us and they’ll just pick us up in their nets.”

“We’ve been in worse situations then this, sir,” Junior says. “We’ll be fine. I’ve got faith.”

Danny knows that Junior only falls back on _sir_ when he’s nervous or unsure and it hurts. But there’s nothing Danny can do about it right now when all he’s got on is his _amakna_ , and his gun and his badge (for whatever they may be worth out here in the open wide) are locked away below deck.

Along the rails of the trawler, men in rubber overalls come to stand and stare at them – they were an angry looking bunch.

“They look like regular fishermen,” Junior says.

“Appearances can be deceiving, _sehas_ ,” Danny says, watching as a mountain of a man who carried a certain air of authority appears at the rails, “you should know that by now.” Danny and the mountain stare at each other as a one of the trawler’s sailors throw over a rope ladder. To Junior, Danny says, “Stay behind me.”

“You realize I was a SEAL, right?”

Danny puts one hand on the ladder, watching as two more of the trawler’s crew jump over its side, ropes in hand, to tie the two vessels together. Junior watches them work and Danny never takes his eyes off the mountain, and, once the lines were secured, one of the sailors produces a gun – gesturing between Danny and Junior and the ladder.

“Just do what I tell you,” Danny says, “and stay the fuck behind me.”

 

 

“ _Sketkùmpichik_ ,” the mountain greets with a wide smile and the sudden sound of _K_ _ùtki_ , butchered by this human’s tongue, is enough to immediately put Danny on the wrong foot and he hesitates – not the mountain seems to notice. “My name is Captain Ruben and welcome aboard my humble fishing vessel: _Sabine_.”

“Nice to meet you, captain,” Danny says, striving to remain polite even as he notices that more and more of these so-called fishermen were obviously hiding guns underneath their heavy clothing. “Can I ask why you chased us down?”

Captain Ruben steps in close and Danny automatically pulls Junior further behind him.

“Don’t treat me like a fool,” Ruben says, his voice lowering. “I know what I saw on the drone’s footage. Two little mermen out for a swim.”

Danny wants to tear the man’s throat out; wants to drag him down to _se_ _sewǔw spita_ – to the Abyss – where the giants live, feasting on the carcasses of the above. And some of that must show on his face, because Ruben is laughing then – as if he finds Danny’s sudden rage entertaining.

“Hate to burst your bubble, captain,” Danny says, “but the _wikte_ have been extinct since Vietnam – the government snatched up the last of the descendants of whoever survived WWII and threw them into the war machine for cannon fodder. Learn—”

The captain loses his easy smile, then.

“This is how it’s going to go,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “One of you is going to get in the water and you’re going to push whatever of your cousin-fishes are down there straight into our nets; the other will stay up here for insurance. _Skotùùnu?_ ”

Danny blinks. ‘ _Skotùùnu_ ’? What—

The captain sighs and rolls his eyes, snaps, “Do you _understand?_ ”

“I take it that if we refuse, we get shot?” Danny asks, pointedly looking around at the crew of the _Sabine_.

“That’s correct.”

 “And how much fish do you want before you’ll let us be on our way?” Danny asks. Then he makes a gesture towards the east, “’Cause, you see, I’ve got a partner and he worries when the kid and I aren’t home on time. He is just,” Danny lets out a breath and a quick shake of his head, “he is just not the kind of person you want on your tail, know what I mean?”

“Unfortunately, I think he’s going to be waiting a long time – it takes a while to fill up a ship this size,” Ruben says, waving one of his men forward. “This is my first mate; you can just call him Bear. Bear here is going to see to your _kid_ —”

Bear takes exactly two steps in their direction before Danny is snarling out a warning, his eyes flashing to yellow – and his snarl is nearly drowned out by the sound of a dozen pistols and rifles being cocked.

“I wouldn’t,” Ruben says.

Danny doesn’t back down.

“This is getting us nowhere,” Bear snaps at Ruben, “I told you we should’ve just left it alone.”

Ruben glares briefly at Bear’s profile, before turning back to Danny. “This is the deal,” Ruben says, “you load my ship up with fish – and you and the kid can go back to whatever shithole mermen hide in these days.”

“And the footage from the drone?” Danny asks.

“Will be deleted,” Ruben assures, his easy smile already back in place.

“Just one more question,” Danny starts, “who taught you _K_ _ùtki_?”

At that, Ruben simply grins. Then he motions once more to Bear, who once again steps forward and reaches out for Junior, and Danny has to physically swallow his snarl of warning.

Junior lets himself be pulled along, but as he passes Danny, his ducks his head and whispers, “ _Mumi, akso_.”

And Danny wants to scream, wants to shout, wants to cry, wants to grab Junior and take their chances in the ocean – but the moment passes and they lock eyes and Danny does everything he can to convey to Junior that this isn’t over, that he’s gonna get them through this.

Junior nods once before he’s disappeared below decks.

 

 

Danny hits the water and he chokes on a scream of frustration – he couldn’t do it; he couldn’t do anything to add to all the noise already rattling around in his head. The sonar, limited though it was; the crew of the boat screaming and cursing and laughing and fucking; the propellers and the engines.

He dives underneath the ship and twists to look up at its hull – thinking that maybe, that if there was a way he could breach it, for there was certainly enough biofouling, then he could—

Danny’s thoughts come to a screeching halt and, with a quick flick of his tail, Danny surges up, his short, curved claws digging and ripping away barnacles – the roughness of their shells tearing at his skin until the water around him was red.

Then they were revealed.

 _Waot_.

Dozens of warning signs and colony sigils – the light from the _kipp_ _ù_ of whoever carved these having long since faded to nothing. Then Danny remembers: _skotùùnu_. _You will die_. Whoever had taught Captain Ruben _K_ _ùtki_ was trying to warn whichever _wikte_ came next. And Danny—

Danny can’t think of any way out of this.

But there’s no outmaneuvering them – there were too many guns and too many eyes. And while Danny may have been able to use his _kipp_ _ù_ to keep Junior from going feral, humans were completely unreceptive to _wikte_ magic – _kipp_ _ù_  washes ineffectually over humans as they simply had no way to comprehend it.

And now Danny was thinking how stupid humans were and how there was one particularly stupid human that he’d like to see again.

Slowly, Danny moves to a space where no _ot_ has yet to be carved – and, with quick and deft flicks of a claw, Danny scours his colony’s sigil into place: crossed narwhale tusks overlaying an iceberg and a hibiscus flower; the latter being his own addition after he and Steve had finally figured their shit out, after Hawaii stopped being a place to be loathed, and instead became _home_.

Slowly Danny pushes himself away from the keel of the ship. Twisting to return to the depths to search for whatever school of fish may be nearby.

 

 

 _Wakektaw_ , Danny thinks to himself as he watches as the second set of full nets were being slowly hauled out of the water, before he turns away quickly and dives underneath the water to return to his task now that the crew was occupied.

Earlier, when he had been ripping away barnacles, he hadn’t noticed straight away, but there were areas along the hull where the biofouling had significantly weakened its structural integrity. In between chasing fish towards the nets, Danny was silently attacking those weak spots. If he could break through while the sailors were busy elsewhere—

He had to keep going.

He was close.

His fingers, his hands, his arms had all been scraped raw and bloody – but he was _so close_.

Just one more hour.

 

 

The third catch is being hoisted onboard when Danny breaks through. The hole is large enough that he could almost wriggle through it and he does – but just enough to ensure that his sabotage won’t be noticed immediately before he slips back through to begin work on another area of the hull.

 

 

By the time they’re hauling up their fifth catch, the ship is riding low in the water, weighted down by their haul and ocean water, and Danny, awake almost forty-eight hours by this point, is just barely hanging on – dredging up the very last of his _kipp_ _ù_ reserves, holding images of Steve and Grace and Junior, trapped inside of the ship, at the forefront of his mind in order to keep himself moving.

And someone must finally notice what’s going on because, amongst all the other noise, there’s a surge of panicked shouting.

Then there’s a gunshot and Danny thinks he screams as adrenaline begins to flood his system. He swims up to one of the many holes he’s torn into the hull and he’s just about to enter it when there’s a flicker of motion just out of the corner of his eye—

A cloud of blood billows out into the water, quickly followed by a body that looks very much Bear – and then Junior, shooting out of the hole and whirling and twisting as he looks around him.

Just as quickly as the adrenaline spike had come, it fades with Danny’s relief at seeing Junior who, thank all the gods Danny’s never believed in, looks very much unharmed.

“ _Danny_ ,” Junior yells, his _K_ _ùtki_ pronunciation of Danny’s name a beautiful song that saps away what little of Danny’s strength was left.

Junior’s clawed – long and thin, where Danny’s were short and curved – hands reaching for him is the last thing Danny sees before the world slips away to darkness.

 

 

 

The first thing Danny knows instantly – _instantly_ – the moment he wakes up – is that he is back in Hawaiian waters. The second thing is that his hands and arms burn and the pain does more to wake him up than anything else. The third thing is that Junior is holding onto him with a death grip, but the only thing making them move is the movement of the ocean itself.

Gingerly, Danny tries to move his arms – the sun is beating down on them and he can feel just how burnt his skin is. Junior suddenly tightens his grip and his _ie_ begins thrashing and Danny has to shout his name more than once before Junior wakes up enough to release him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Junior says, letting go of Danny and swimming backwards to give him his space.

“Easy, _mipa sehas_ ,” Danny says, trying to talk through his splitting headache and the way the world around him was spinning in a way that has nothing to do with how they were bobbing amongst the waves. He needed to cool down. He needed darkness. “Stay here,” he thinks he says. “I’ll be—I’ll be right back.”

The water here isn’t as deep as Danny would like, but it’s just cool enough to clear his head a little, to soothe his sunburnt skin. He stays down as long as he’s able – only ten of his usual twenty-minute dive time.

When he returns to the surface, Junior has his eyes on the sky.

“We’ve gotta keep moving,” Danny says. “This water is too hot for me and I’m absolutely going to lose my mind if I’m out here much longer.”

“I can carry—”

“No,” Danny says, shaking his head and already feeling like he was about to pass out again, “I have to stay along the bottom – where it’s cooler. Swim down as close to me as you can handle the pressure and we’ll find our way home.”

Danny wants to reach up, wants to grab Junior by the back of the neck and give the kid a little shake, let him know that they were going to make it through this – because Junior is looking just as ragged as Danny’s feeling – but, again, Danny’s hands were torn to shit and he’s surprised he’s not still bleeding.

 

 

They make it a few more miles before Danny runs out of cool water to swim in. That, coupled with the building noise around them and Danny was just about ready to give up the ghost then and there. Not even conjuring up images of Grace nor Steve could coax anymore energy from him.

Danny was entirely spent.

It was all he could to nudge Junior up to the surface for Danny to take a breath and for them to talk about what was to come next.

 

 

“I’m not leaving you,” Junior yells, looking for all the world like he was ready to throw Danny onto his back again.

“I’m not asking you to,” Danny says. “I just need you to swim ahead for me, okay? Get back home, get Steve, get a boat – then come back for me. Because I can’t—” Danny’s voice breaks and he shakes his head and he fights to keep his head above the water, “—I gotta get back to the cooler water.”

“We’re almost there, Danny—”

“We’re _not_ ,” and it’s Danny’s turn to yell because he’s frustrated and he’s tired and everything is _yuspiwiw_ – he was burning, inside and outside and he was going to need to sleep for a week in an ice bath and Steve was just going to have to deal with it.

Which, okay, that wasn’t an entirely fair thought towards Steve, Danny would admit, because Steve would be the one changing the ice twice as often as Danny needed him to, and he wouldn’t say a word about it, and he would keep it as dark as he could and Danny _knows_ this because Steve’s done it for him before and—

—and, _fuck,_ Danny needs to get out of this sun.

“Please,” when Danny speaks his voice is breaking again – he needs Junior to go and get Steve.

“Danny—”

Something dark and primal suddenly breaks and it rears up in Danny and lashes out, and this time Danny doesn’t just scrape his teeth along Junior’s shoulder. This time he’s surging forward and he’s savaging the meat of Junior’s bicep, letting go as soon as he rips through flesh before twisting around in the water to bring the full weight and power of his _ie_ down onto the insolent shark.

In that moment, Danny is the feral one and he doesn’t even realize it until long after he’s collapsed onto the sea floor, surrounded by smaller fish who nip at his wounded flesh – and he knows with an absolute certainty that what he’s done is something that he’ll never forgive himself for.

Instincts be damned.

And it’s all he can do right now to curl tighter in on himself, trying to control the shivering of his burned out and exhausted muscles.

 

-x-

 

Junior doesn’t care if he becomes the single-handed reason humans rediscover the _wikte_ – because he is swimming hard and he is swimming without care to hide himself.

Danny’s attack had been a shock not just in its ferocity but in its brute strength – and it had been exactly what got Junior moving. Danny had given him an order and he hadn’t followed it and he had been reprimanded. That Danny hadn’t sunk his teeth into Junior months ago was the only thing that surprised him when he thinks back on it.

But he doesn’t want to.

Think back on it.

Thinking back on it is a distraction Junior can’t afford – not right now. Not—. This mission was important. Too important.

What was also sure was that he was only a mile out from home. It would be Friday – so Steve would be finishing paperwork at the office before he came home. Or maybe it was Saturday? And then Steve would be out on the lanai, drinking a Longboard and talking to Eddie. Maybe he would get lucky and it was actually Sunday – the day Steve practically lived on his little stretch of beach, dunking himself in the water ever half hour just so he could go and hug Danny—

Junior cuts himself off.

Danny was miles out in the other direction, suffering and alone, so there would be no one for Steve to hug—

Junior grits his teeth and stops thinking at all.

 

-x-

 

Danny feels sharks swimming over him – they know he’s injured, they know he’s weak, but they also remember the _wikte,_ for all sharks have long memories and they remember that _wikte_ were dangerous even as they were dying.

Danny pushes himself off the seabed, startling a nearby octopus, and starts his arduous journey towards the hot surface for a breath.

 

-x-

 

Junior crawls up the beach – not entirely trusting that his human legs could support him right now.

Farther up the beach, he hears desperate barking and he thinks he whispers either Eddie’s name or Steve’s or maybe some kind of combination of both.

 _A little further_ , he tells himself, _just a little_ —

Eddie is suddenly barreling down on him and Steve is hot on his heels and a joy Junior has never felt before – not since the day he got his trident pin, at least – consumes Junior wholly and he must be laughing or something equally manic because Steve is looking absolutely terrified.

Junior reaches for Steve and he pulls Steve down and turns them both so they’re facing the horizon.

“There,” Junior says, his voice sandpaper rough, but it’s all he can manage. “Danny. There.”

And Steve seems to understand enough of what Junior’s trying to say, because it takes all of five minutes for Steve to get Junior and Steve’s dive gear into Steve’s truck.

“Junior,” Steve’s voice is distant and it seemed to be calling to him as if from on high and Junior struggles to find Steve and to focus on him. “Junior, talk to me, buddy,” he’s saying, “tell me what happened. Stay with me, alright?”

Report. Right. The Commander needs a report. A sit-rep. He needs to know about Danny and the trawler that Danny sank—

“No survivors,” Junior says.

“No survivors of what?” Steve asks, his head whipping around.

“Danny sank it,” Junior says, and he thinks he might’ve left out some of that story if the look on Steve’s face is anything to go on. “The trawler – they had me and they made Danny get them fish. Well,” Junior feels laughter bubbling up in his chest, “it’s just _dumb_ to leave a _wikte_ like Danny in the water without supervision, you know?”

Steve nods because of course _he_ knows. Steve knows Danny better than anyone.

“So, Danny sank a trawler,” Steve says, waving his hands and motioning for Junior to keep talking. Then he says so. “I need you to keep talking to me, okay, June, keep talking to me. What happened next?”

“He couldn’t have slept,” Junior says, leaning back in his seat and looking up at the roof of the truck, staring at the fabric with wide eyes – remember that first hint of scratching along the hull, at the sound of metal giving way, at the sight and then feel of water rushing in to claim an open space.

He remembers the men finally realizing what was happening, at Bear rushing into the room he’d locked Junior away in and aiming his gun, and, just before he pulled the trigger, the sudden rush of water as it broke through a poorly latched door, knocking Bear off balance and throwing his shot wide.

He remembers rushing through against that tide and digging his teeth into Bear’s side and ripping away at his clothes until Junior finally hit flesh – kept biting down again and again until he heard the snap of bones. And then he was out in the great wide open once more – just in time to watch Danny begin to sink.

This Junior all says aloud this time, and then he adds—

“But I got him,” he says, “I grabbed him and I just—I booked it. I always know where home is, sir, I always do.”

“Home?” Steve asks, and he’s glancing at Junior and back to the road and then back at Junior again – like there’s an answer that he wants, but he’s afraid to ask. “You mean Hawai’i?”

And it feels wrong that Steve should ever be afraid to ask anything of Junior – who has always felt like he’s never deserved any of this. But he can’t ever be less than truthful. Not with Steve. Not when it comes to a question like this.

“No, sir,” Junior says, “I mean like _home_ ,” and he emphasizes the word with a nod back the way they’ve come, a nod back towards Steve’s house.

Steve smiles a little bit, then, just enough to show Junior he’s thrilled with the answer.

“What happened next?”

 

-x-

 

The sharks were circling closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Danny thumps his tail hard against the seabed and kicks up a cloud of sand and the sharks are quick to disperse – but Danny is quicker as he snags a smaller one by its tail and pulls it down to chest and sinks his teeth into it.

He eats the liver quickly and leaves the rest to the other sharks before returning to the surface for a breath – his message sent and delivered: he wasn’t dead yet.

 

-x-

 

Steve doesn’t bother with the process of renting a boat, he just flashes his badge and commandeers the nearest one with a set of keys already in the ignition and a full tank of gas.

Junior still doesn’t quite have the use of his legs – still feels as if he’s bobbing around at the ocean’s surface. But he hasn’t gotten turned around. He’s still got that exact lock on where he’s left Danny. And once Steve has the boat going and they’re out of the harbor, Junior points him in the right direction.

 

-x-

 

Danny kills another shark, but this one was bigger, stronger, and Danny feels more than one claw rip out as he tries to maintain his hold on his prey – but that’s just one more hurt to stack on top of everything else and Danny doesn’t have the patience to entertain it just yet.

 

-x-

 

“How much further?” Steve asks.

“Almost,” Junior says, “we’re almost there.”

 

-x-

 

It’s hot – it’s too hot and too bright and some part of Danny’s mind is yelling at him not to wander too far from where he and Junior had parted ways.

Then again, all Junior’s gotta do is follow the bodies of the—

 

-x-

 

“Is that a shark?” Steve asks, squinting as he tries to focus on something on the horizon.

“Yeah,” Junior says, immediately locking onto the carcass floating in the water. When they reach it, Junior takes in the wounds and adds, “This had to have been done by Danny.”

Steve doesn’t waste any more time – he just throws the anchor over the side and begins gearing up.

Junior thinks about trying to argue with Steve, try to figure out a way to keep Steve safe and in the boat. But Junior knows better than to get between either of Steve or Danny when the other is injured – it was a surefire way to get dead.

He’s not sure how he finds the energy to _spiy_ , Junior just knows that he’s not letting Steve down there alone – one dead shark meant there were likely to be dozens of alive ones, all of which had now scented blood in the water and would be looking for a feast; and Junior would be damned if he let anything happen to Steve. He wouldn’t be able to face Danny afterwards.

Junior is just about to throw himself into the water, when Steve puts his hand on Junior’s shoulder – the touch feather light, just enough to get Junior’s attention before it disappears again.

Junior looks over and Steve’s looking at him through his goggles and there’s—

Steve’s always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve – but the sheer amount of gratitude Junior sees there, it’s enough to give him the strength he needs.

“Follow me down,” Junior says. “There’ll probably be a lot more sharks, too, just stay as close to me as you can, and they’ll leave us be.”

Steve nods and together, they dive into the water.

 

 

Junior catches the scent of Danny’s blood immediately and homes in on it.

The sharks around him and Steve were erring dangerously close to a frenzy – but their fear, palpable and steady, held them back. Even giving Junior and Steve a wide berth as Junior follows his nose down to the depths.

 

 

Junior has never liked the dark, never liked the cold – neither of those things were in his nature, not even when his nature was something to be kept under lock and key. But, for Danny, Junior pushes himself into the dark, into the cold.

Danny had told him once that his colony was called the _Kinsem-Mochak_ , and Junior remembers the look of confusion on Danny’s face when Junior tells him he has no colony name.

That night, Junior had tried to ask his parents about it – but he’d never gotten a response. When he tried to ask in person, his father had screamed at him to drop it, to remember that _wikte_ were hunted here so to not be _wikte_ would be to be safe.

Danny, surprising both Junior and Steve, hadn’t had a lot to say about that – instead he’d only looked sad, before walking out of the room.

 

 

Junior’s eyes are slow to adjust to the dark and the weight of the ocean above is nearly unbearable. But he still feels Steve just behind him, who was doing a lot better than Junior had thought possible – then again, he knows that Steve and Danny dive together whenever they get the chance, so Junior figures he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is.

Junior struggles to find a last reserve of _kipp_ _ù_ – hoping he could reach out, let Danny know that they were here – and he does, he finds that last little bit and reaches down into his core, that area that hurts after too many sit-ups, and he imagines taking it and crumpling it into a paper ball and he throws it outward – hoping it hits its target.

 

-x-

 

He needs to move; he needs to take a breath. He’s empty and hollowed out and the pain is now nothing but a distant ache he knows logically has nothing to do with his healing ability.

Danny closes his eyes – just wanting to sleep through whatever is to happen next. He’s got nothing left to—

Danny opens his eyes as something hits against his senses.

In the distance – two figures were swimming towards him.

 

-x-

 

 _It’s too late_ , Steve thinks, resting his hand on Danny’s flank as he kicks his way up to look Danny in the eye, _god, we’re too late_.

Steve takes his oxygen piece and holds it up to Danny’s mouth, silently begging him to take a breath.

Danny does.

 _Not too late_ , Steve rejoices. Then, mindful of the myriad of Danny’s injuries, Steve grabs Danny under the armpits and lets Junior – who has been rock steady this whole time despite his obvious exhaustion – lead them back up to the surface.

 

 

The sharks swim in closer than they did when they were on their way down, but Junior is quick to chase them off.

As soon as they’re back on the boat, Steve gets Danny’s tail and eyes covered. Danny has yet to change back and Steve’s not sure how to process that just yet. So, he doesn’t. Instead, he calls Kamekona.

 “I need a favor,” he says, firing up the boat and pointing it back towards the harbor. “I need you and Flippa to go to my house, fill up the bathtub with ocean water and ice. You’ll find black-out curtains under the sink – hang those and close them up tight. No light at all. Can you do that for me?”

“Consider it done,” Kamekona says, adamant assurance in his voice that helps to ease Steve just a little.

But there was still one more thing. He calls Lou, asks him to grab Jerry and to meet him at the harbor. If Danny didn’t change back by the time Steve had docked, Steve was going to need to help getting him into the truck – and Junior, who had promptly passed out as soon as he’d finished helping Steve ensure that none of Danny’s tail was visible, was in no shape to do any heavy lifting.

Guilt, thick and soul-crushing, slams into Steve as soon as he’s hung up – it digs its claws into Steve’s heart and it squeezes and it squeezes and Steve forces it all down. Locks it away. There would time to deal with it later – first things first: get Danny and Junior secured, and get their wounds treated.

Then.

Then he could deal with his feelings.

 

 

Jerry and Lou are waiting on the pier – Lou takes one look at Junior and another at the tarp-wrapped body and this look of _fear_ and _dread_ washes over his face.

“It’s just Danny,” Steve says hurriedly, rushing to move the tarp off Danny’s face just the slightest so Lou and Jerry could see for themselves that the man was very much alive (and, unfortunately, still very much fully shifted – though that part of Danny was out of their sight).

Junior was still passed out and it looked like there would be no rousing him – so Steve passes him off to Jerry.

“What the hell happened to these guys?” Jerry asks, swinging Junior’s arm around his own neck, steadying Junior’s limp body with a hand on Junior’s waist.

“I’m a little fuzzy on the details myself,” Steve says, taking a nearby towel and, after lifting the tarp only just enough to see what he was doing, wrapped the towel around Danny’s eyes – making sure that his nose and mouth wasn’t obstructed. To Lou, Steve says, “I need you to get his torso. I’ll get his legs.”

“Why do you have him in this tarp?” Lou asks.

From inside the tarp, in the smallest, roughest voice that Steve’s ever heard come from Danny’s throat, the words—

“It’s classified.”

—make Steve pause and he’s once again peeking through the tarp. Danny’s got the towel off his eyes and he’s squinting up at Steve, and then he’s reaching forward and Steve carefully touches the back of Danny’s hand and all of that emotion that Steve’s been trying to push down rushes forward all at once and—

“Danno,” he chokes, leans forward to press his forehead to Danny’s.

Danny who is murmuring in _K_ _ùtki_ all the words of adoration and love with which Steve’s so familiar; Danny who isn’t quite able to touch Steve with his hands because of his wounds, so seems to be trying to make up for it with his words.

“We’re gonna fix you up, okay?” Steve whispers. “Kamekona and Flippa, they’re gonna get an ice bath set up for you; the black-out curtains set up for you.” Then lower, so none else but Danny can hear him, “Have you been able to change back?”

Danny closes his eyes and he shakes his head and Steve brings his hand up to run it gingerly through Danny’s hair. “Hey, it’s okay; it’s okay, Danno. Look, I’m gonna cover your eyes back up, then Lou and I are gonna lift you and we’re gonna get you in the truck and then we’re gonna get you home.”

Danny leans into Steve’s hand, nodding before he closes his eyes and lets Steve re-wrap the towel.

Steve then turns to Lou, says, “Alright, let’s get him up.”

 

-x-

 

Danny doesn’t emerge from the ice for a week.

Grace visits every day, but Danny hardly has the strength to say but a few words to her.

He learns from Grace that Junior was doing well, that his wounds were nearly healed – mostly because Steve had forcefully confined the _mipa sehas_ to bedrest, not allowing him out of said bed for three days straight.

He learns from Steve (who had learned from Junior) that Danny’s boat had sank with the fishing trawler; that the fishing trawler had no survivors and that, if there had been, Steve says, he would’ve killed them himself.

“You wouldn’t,” Danny says, his voice just barely a whisper, “you’re not supposed to be the one with murderous instincts.”

And the way Steve doesn’t respond, just looks down at Danny with eyes filled with intent, and suddenly Danny’s not so sure.

“When it comes to you, Danny,” Steve says, “there’s not much I wouldn’t do.”

Danny sits himself up in the tub just enough to press his lips against Steve’s. “ _Saspǔwik mo_ ,” Danny whispers.

“ _Saspǔwik mo_ ,” Steve whispers back, curling his fingers at the base of Danny’s neck, scratching lightly as they share another soft kiss.

 

 

The first time Danny sees Junior, the both of them finally up and walking around, Danny pulls the kid into a strong hug, says, “I never should’ve hit you. _Sanutke,_ _mipa sehas_.”

Junior pulls back out of the hug just a little – just enough to look Danny in the eye, head cocked in confusion, “I didn’t obey an order, sir—”

And Danny doesn’t let him finish, just puts his hands on either side of Junior’s face and, in as stern a voice as he can, says, “If there is ever one lesson you take from me – let it be this one: _insùy kesesi peku spùi mo_. I’ll repeat it in English in case there is any sort of misunderstanding: _never let someone hit you_.”

“Yes, sir,” Junior says, nodding before he ducks his head back into the crook of Danny’s neck.

“I may not have been in my right mind,” Danny says, “but that doesn’t mean you should excuse it without expecting an apology, or even think you did anything to deserve it. Alright?”

Against Danny’s shoulder, Junior nods his head.

Steve walks into the room, then, a mug of tea in each hand and he quirks an eyebrow. Danny just opens an arm and asks, “You want in on the hug?”

Steve smirks, sets the teas down and says, “Oh, definitely,” and then he’s throwing his ridiculously long arms around everyone and squeezing tight. “I love _ohana_ hugs,” he coos.

And all three of them laugh—

Together.

 

-z-

 

End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want Junior to have nice things. A family that loves him would be an excellent starting point, imo.
> 
> Edit Log:  
> \--7/28: some detail added about where Danny and Junior have gone and a (generalized) map of it has been added to the translations post.


	3. hi (3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny sets his _spùchew_ Eric on the right path, fights to keep Grace in Hawaii, plays in the water with the Hookman, helps to break up a _wikte/tihum_ fighting ring, and gets buried underneath a parking garage - all while Steve works on a Top Secret Research Project and plots Danny's destruction with Grace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--Picking up right after chapter one.  
> \--Some canonical timeline fuckery for reasons.  
> \--I won’t be translating _wikte_ , _kippù_ (magic), _akso_ (uncle), or _spiy_ (change/shift) unless they are part of a longer sentence or they’ve been modified somehow, because it’s getting a little repetitive and I’m sure y’all know what they mean by now.  
> \--[Glossary](https://amosanguis.tumblr.com/post/187885832465/one-page-at-a-time-ch-3)

-z-

 

Everything between Danny and Steve is still new and fresh, they’ve barely had time to make out, when Danny gets a message from his _kwoyǔ_ , Stella, that she’s putting Eric on a plane for Hawaii.

“ _A spa spepo chu aw a_ , Danny,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “What if I can’t fix this? What if he’s too far gone?”

“ _Mumi_ , _kwoyǔ_ ,” Danny says, lilting his words into a reassuring cadence as he launches into promises to do everything he can to scare his _spùchew_ away from criminal activity.

“Whatever you can do, Danny,” Stella says, “please, do it.”

“I will, Stella,” Danny promises.

 

 

Eric arrives with a certain swagger and Danny sighs internally even as he wraps his nephew up in a hug; then Eric pulls away and starts in some story about the flight attendant and Danny realizes he’s got a long road ahead of him.

 

 

Danny looks down at Chin’s phone, at the picture he’d posed for for charity, and his initial indignation is immediately washed out by anger, as he heads towards his office. He throws open his own door, reaches out with his _kippù_ to poke at Eric while he snaps, “ _Kechuppe_ , _kwappu_. _Kechuppe. Kechuppe_ , _spùchew_.”

Eric’s got a grin on his face up until he sees the look on Danny’s face, feels Danny’s _kippù_ clawing at him, pulling him up and up and out of the chair.

“You think that’s funny?” Danny snaps. “You know Grace is on that email?”

Eric tries to keep smiling, tries to keep the smirk up – but Danny shuts him down.

“Please know,” Danny says, his hands together in front of him as he gestures, “please know that unlike your mother, I am not a pushover. You pull another stunt like that and I will maim you.” Danny gestures to the bullpen, to Steve and Chin, “They know about _wikte_ , they know what I am – and I promise you that they will absolutely look the other way if we drop fang. _A ketimo?_ ”

Eric swallows, nods, says, “ _Satimo, Akso Danny_.”

Danny drops his _kippù_ away from Eric and they share a look as Danny says, “Good.”

Then Steve is walking in with a lead for their case and Danny makes it a point to look Eric in the eye as he says, “C’mon.”

 

 

From there, Danny tries to be patient. He and Steve work the case and both of them are pleased and a little bit more than surprised when Eric makes useful contributions more than once, and the day eventually ends with Danny’s fangs remaining sheathed.

“Don’t get excited, though,” Danny says, giving Eric a little shove as they head out of the Five-0 offices, “there’s always tomorrow.”

Eric just laughs and throws his hands up and swears he won’t do anything else to rouse Danny’s ire. When they get home, Eric starts talking about the crime lab as he types away at his phone – google searching the answers to his own questions faster than Danny can answer them – gesticulating wildly with his hands between taps on his phone’s screen. His enthusiasm enough to bring an amused grin to Danny’s face.

 

 

“So, are you and Steve—?” Eric asks, putting down his cards to make a crude hand gesture that Danny ignores.

“Watch your mouth,” Danny says, glaring at Eric over the top of his own cards.

“Yeah,” Grace echoes, “watch your mouth.”

Danny grins at her and they share a conspiratorial look. Grace had been adamant from the get-go about Danny not messing up this thing with Steve, made Danny pinky-swear and everything that he’d do all in his considerable power to keep Steve around.

That had been the same day that they had been heading home from New Jersey, from their day at the family pool, Steve and Grace had sat next to each other on the plane with their heads bent in close together, whispering, and occasionally glancing at Danny. It was enough to make any man nervous. And Danny, flashing back to Steve’s track record of copious violence when he can’t process a Feeling, was very nervous. But then they were back in Hawaii and Steve and Grace shared a serious handshake before, breaking into a fit of laughter, Steve went down to his knee and wrapped Grace in a hug.

The next day, Steve had asked Danny out on a date. Like. A real and proper date. And all the pieces had fallen into place and Danny realized in that moment that he was just absolutely _gone_ for Steve. Because the easiest way to the heart of a _wikte_ is through their family – not that Steve realized it or did it consciously, he was just that way. He’s just the kind of person who believed that if he wanted to date Danny, he needed to talk about it with Grace first.

The date itself had been traditional – because of course it had, because of course Danny would expect no less from Steve – and had consisted of dinner and a very nice bottle of wine, over which Steve promises that all future volunteering with the Aloha Girl Scouts will involve decidedly less murder (of people, anyway, Steve was still adamant about teaching the Scouts how to hunt boar, and Danny ignores the way his more animal side _preens_ at the idea of a _tùnsak_ who knows both how to hunt and how to teach).

They’d gone to see a movie afterwards, but Danny doesn’t remember a single thing about it – not the plot nor who was in it, okay, he remembers _nothing_ – what he does remember is him and Steve throwing popcorn at each other until they were asked to leave for being disruptive.

They’d left and walked down to the beach, giddy on wine and each other. Danny had been – not necessarily _shocked_ , or even surprised, by how not awkward it all was – and he thinks that maybe they’ve just been half in love with each other this whole time and had just never had the sense to do anything.

They’d kissed right there, under the waning moon on the beach, their shoes off and their pant legs rolled up as the surf washed over their ankles, and it had been cheesy and romantic and neither of them had wanted the night to end.

“ _Akso_ ,” Eric nearly yells, snapping Danny out of his reverie. Danny realizes he’s been asked for any fives.

“ _Ke_ s _pena kwunsùm_ ,” Danny says, before turning to Grace and asking for any queens.

Eric looks like he’s about to make a joke, but Danny jabs him (lightly) with a few needles of _kippù_ and Eric’s words die unsaid in the back of his throat. He’s learning. Slowly. But he’s _learning_.

It’s Eric’s last night on the island, and Danny’s proud that he’ll be sending Eric back to Stella with a mind to help solve crimes, instead of committing them.

 

-

 

It’s hard to find time to push their relationship forward when Danny and Steve are busy breaking into Halawa to break Chin out.

There’s just a lot of paperwork that goes with stuff like that (Danny’s responsibility) and apologetic phone calls (Steve’s).

Then, just as Danny’s seen Steve and Chin and Kono out of the office, himself sticking behind to get a head start on some of said paperwork – Rachel calls. It’s late which means that what she has to say she’s saying it after she’s put Grace to bed, and what she says is that she’s going to pack Grace up to follow Stan to Vegas.

Danny doesn’t let her get even half-way through her excuse as to why this is “the best thing for Grace, Daniel” before he’s snarling and hanging up and throwing his phone away from himself. He doesn’t grab it from where it’d _thunk’d_ against the office couch, just grabs his keys and storms off into the night, driving like a maniac towards no particular destination.

 _Se spotkayai_ has long since gone down on what had been a clear and sunny day – a day that had been perfect for storming state prisons – and _se tùot_ has risen behind the storm clouds that had come in off the ocean and had been spilling rain ever since.

Danny gets half-way to Steve’s house before he realizes where he’s going and diverges – going instead to that rocky overlook of which he’s always been so fond. He puts the car in park and leans against the steering wheel, forces himself to breathe as he listens to the rain patter against the windshield.

His instincts scream at him to get Grace, to keep her by his side until the threat of her leaving has passed. A small part of him whispers that Stan can’t take her away if Stan’s dead – but he quashes the thought before it’s fully formed. If they were still in the ocean, that’s how things would have been dealt with – but they’re not, so Danny can’t, no matter the violence welling in his heart, the desire to make someone bleed and break.

Danny elongates his claws, drops his fangs. Takes a breath. Then he pulls them back in. Elongates and drops. Breath. Pulls them back. Elongates and drops. Breath. Pulls them back.

The exercise gives him something to focus on until he notices that the rain has stopped. Danny steps out of the Camaro and walks over to the waist-high wall. He doesn’t mind that everything is wet as he sits down on it, swinging his legs over the side so he faces the ocean.

The ocean he can barely swim in, the ocean that surrounds this _skeksiksa yaw spotka_ he was never meant to be able to endure.

And yet.

And yet Danny can’t picture himself anywhere else.

If he was told tonight that he could go back to New Jersey (or, that Stan was going back to Jersey and thus Grace was going, too) – Danny’s not entirely sure he _could_ _go_.

He’s got _kisǔ_ here now in the form of Chin and Kono, who know what he is and accept him, and Kamekona and Max. And, god – Danny’s got Steve and he’s got all that’s building between the two of them. After all these years, the secrets, the blood spilled between them as they worked to ensure not just the safety of the island, but _each other’s_ safety.

It’s a harrowing thought.

And it scares Danny sometimes, scared him even before certain revelations came to light, the lengths he’d go to see Steve again – he’d burn the island away and fight entire armies, if need be.

Danny blinks, laughs bitterly at himself, the waves below him crashing against the rocks in a kind of mockery of his laughter.

It won’t be armies Danny will need to fight – it’ll be fancy lawyers and a Hawaiian judge, which. Danny doesn’t have a good history with lawyers, but he may be able to persuade a judge to come around (again: _maybe_ ; it all depended on the day and how much property damage had been caused by Five-0 or if he’d been shot and/or blown up that week).

But everything Danny does, everything Danny is – it all comes back down to Grace. He’ll go where she goes, always, but, for the first time in years, he hopes that they’ll be staying in Hawaii.

Danny lets his thoughts stray away, stretching the scope of his hearing to listen to the sounds of the ocean, the soft laughing of a beach party some ways off, the honking of a distant horn. There’s irony, Danny muses, in the way his keen hearing is such an asset on land, while being a very real hinderance (an understatement) in the water where he belongs. He’s not Superman, he can’t hear heartbeats, but, up high like this, he feels like he can hear all of O’ahu stretched out beneath his dangling feet.

Then there’s a sound Danny picks up – truck tires crunching over dirt and gravel, and it brings an unbidden grin to Danny’s face. He half-turns and watches as Steve climbs out of his truck, Danny’s cell phone in his hand.

“ _Ùyu_ ,” Steve greets, because Grace has taught Steve a few words of Kùtki in her and Steve’s ultimate plan of trying to make Danny just absolutely lose his mind, and fuck if it wasn’t working because Steve’s inflections are perfect and Danny knows – he _knows_ – that Steve’s been practicing – probably in front of a mirror, probably with Grace, and that’s a thought that makes Danny’s chest _ache_.

“ _Ùyu_ ,” Danny responds when he remembers himself. Danny swings his legs over the wall so that he was facing Steve before gesturing at his phone in Steve’s hand. “I didn’t realize you made personal deliveries.”

Steve looks a little sheepish as he says, “Well, I’d forgotten my own phone. I saw the lights were still on in your office, so I came to yell at you and instead,” Steve holds the phone up, waving it a little, “I see this thing lighting up like a Christmas tree.”

 _Christmas_ , Danny thinks, _I don’t want to spend Christmas in Las Vegas_.

Something ugly and vicious twists inside of Danny at the thought of spending Christmas anywhere other than this stupid island. And something of that most show on his face because Steve is squatting down in front of him, making sure he held Danny’s eyes, and asks—

“Danno? Hey, what’s—”

Danny can’t answer, the words won’t make it off his tongue because he realizes, looking at Steve right now, that Danny won’t be the only one who’ll be fighting for Grace to stay in Hawaii. And Danny wants to laugh at the thought of Steve gearing up with his grenades and his face paint and storming the court room.

Danny sighs and he curls his fists into the collar of Steve’s shirt, and he pulls the human close enough that Danny can tuck his head into the side of Steve’s neck, inhaling Steve’s salt-and-blood-and-gunpowder scent (it was a predator’s scent and Danny, as a predator himself, delights in it). Steve just goes with it. He makes a soft noise of surprise, but then he’s got one hand laying softly on Danny’s thigh and the other scratching softly at the hairs at the nape of Danny’s neck.

“Alright, Danno,” Steve says, his lips moving against Danny’s ear, pressing gentle and calming kisses at Danny’s temple, “alright. I gotcha, buddy.” Then: “I take this has to do with why Rachel won’t stop calling you? Did you hang up on her again?”

A snarl, low and dangerous, from deep in Danny’s chest, rumbles between them.

Instead of getting scared, which would be a _normal_ human response, Steve just huffs a soft laugh and moves so both of his hands are rubbing Danny’s back, says—

“I need you to use your words, Danno.”

Danny snarls again and pushes his face deeper into Steve’s neck as he wraps his arms around Steve and pulls him closer, until there was no space left between them, and he just holds Steve against him until the snarl quiets to a growl that quiets into nothing at all. And finally, when Danny’s sure he’ll be able to talk, he pulls away from Steve, takes Steve’s hands in his.

“Stan got transferred to Vegas,” he says. “Rachel’s gonna move with him and she wants to take Grace.”

 “But she can’t, right?” Steve asks immediately and Danny looks up from Steve’s hands to Steve’s eyes and there’s _anger_ , raw and powerful and it mirrors Danny’s own initial reaction. “She can’t do that to—” suddenly Steve hesitates, “unless – unless you want to move, too?” And that _anger_ in Steve’s eyes is quick to be washed away by fear and trepidation and it breaks Danny’s heart.

“ _Kechuk_ ,” Danny says, cupping Steve’s face and leaning in close so their foreheads touched. “ _Kechuk_ , no, Steven, no; I don’t—.” Danny growls in frustration. “I don’t want to go anywhere else. I don’t want Grace to go anywhere else. This place, god help me,” Danny chuckles, sounding a little manic at this point, “this place is home now, babe. And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“We’re gonna get this sorted out, Danny,” Steve says, his tone the same one he uses with victims when he’s promising them their vengeance.

Danny smiles and nods and, before he talks himself out of it, closes that scant few inches between them for a kiss. It was supposed to be quick, chaste, something to fit the situation – but Steve digs his fingers in Danny’s hair and he holds him there, and he returns Danny’s kisses with desperation, like he’s trying to scream something at Danny that Danny’s not quite getting.

Then there’s a vibration and _Psycho_ begins to play and Danny pulls away just long enough to answer his phone and snarl, “ _Mo po yuyo pey a wite_. I’m fighting you on this one, Rachel.”

There’s a stunned silence on the other end of the line and Danny doesn’t wait for Rachel to gather herself and, for the second time that night, he hangs up on her.

“What’d you say to her?” Steve asks as Danny rests his head once more against Steve’s shoulder.

“I told her that she’s not taking my daughter,” Danny answers, trying to push his anger down once more and find that calm that had settled over him as soon as Steve had appeared. Danny pulls back, looks Steve in the eye. “I meant it when I said I want to stay on this damned rock of yours,” Danny says, letting a small smile curl his lips so Steve knows he’s (mostly) joking.

Steve’s lips curl too and then he’s wearing a smile identical to Danny’s, says, “I want you to stay on this damned rock of mine, too.”

Then Steve is standing and he’s pulling Danny up with him and they both laugh as their knees and backs make various cracking and popping sounds.

“Getting too old for this,” Steve laments, throwing an arm around Danny and leading them back towards their vehicles, Danny sighing as he leans in against Steve, throwing an arm around Steve’s waist.

Danny knows that there’s a joke in there somewhere about Steve being too old to be on his knees for a few minutes but not too old to be storming prisons, but Danny loses the words for it when Steve presses a gentle kiss to his temple without breaking their stride.

Steve asks if Danny wants to come over – “Just for a beer” – but Danny knows how that night will end and they both have work tomorrow and at least one of them has to be awake enough to deal with the rest of the fallout of this day’s events. He says as much to Steve who responds by making a face before sighing and leaning in for one last kiss.

“Don’t even think about it, mister,” Danny says, putting his hand over Steve’s mouth. “We get started again and we’re not gonna be able to stop.”

Steve’s eyes are mischievous, and Danny knows the second Steve’s made a decision to—

“You think that’s gonna gross me out?” Danny asks, feeling Steve’s tongue swipe over his palm. “You can’t just go around licking people’s hands without them washing first, Steve, that’s unsanitary.”

Steve rolls his eyes and Danny takes his hand away, turning to get into the Camaro – but he’d forgotten (somehow) that his _tùnsak_ is a ninja, and he doesn’t have the time to duck out of the way before Steve has him wrapped up in his arms and is peppering him with quick, chaste kisses all over Danny’s face and hair and neck – Danny twisting in his arms, their laughter echoing and cascading down off the rocky overlook and mixing with the sounds of the ocean’s waves.

 

 

Steve shows up to the family court hearing in his dress blues and damn Danny if they aren’t just as effective as grenades and face paint – Steve still looks very much ready for a battle and Danny fakes an excuse to reach up and touch him (then Danny remembers that he doesn’t have to make excuses anymore, and that, if he’d wanted to, he _could_ just reach out and touch Steve, and that’s a thought that makes him giddy).

“ _Mahalo_ ,” Steve says, straightening up.

“ _Mo sketkùmpichik_ ,” Danny answers. “Means ‘you’re welcome’, babe.”

“ _Mo sketko po achik_?” Steve ventures.

Danny blinks and then laughter is bubbling up in his chest and he tries to stomp it down, really he does, but Steve’s words and the look on Steve’s face as he watches Danny’s reaction and Danny can’t help it as he’s doubling over.

“Danny, what—”

And Danny can’t even breathe as he laughs – the silent, full-body shaking kind of laughter, with tears in his eyes threatening to spill down his cheeks.

“What did I _say_ —”

“ _Sketko_ —” Danny repeats, able to gain just enough to control to say the word before he’s just absolutely gone again.

“You know what,” Steve says as he starts to stand, “you look like you got this, so I’m just gonna—”

Danny reaches out and he pulls Steve back down onto the bench, he’s still shaking and wiping at his eyes as he adjusts his grip on Steve so he’s holding tightly onto Steve’s hand. Danny hasn’t laughed this hard in gods know how long.

He chances a glance at Steve who has his annoyed face on – except not really, because Danny can read him like a book, and Steve’s given away by the small quirk of his lips.

Danny wipes one last time at his eyes before he leans back against the bench, Steve’s hand still secure in Danny’s.

“You said,” Danny starts, licking his lips as he tamps down on his laughter, “you said: ‘you are not a lush potato’ and I have to say, Steven, that I am offended.”

“‘ _Potato_ ’?” Steve echoes, loudly, earning them a few glances from passersby. Steve lowers his voice, “‘ _Potato_ ’? How is there even a word for ‘potato’ in Kùtki?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “You know _wikte_ still visited humans before we were chased from the oceans, right?”

Steve huffs.

“ _Achik_ ,” Danny says, “means ‘potato’. _Sketko_ is ‘lush’. Your words were a little jumbled, but yeah, you told me that I am not a lush potato.”

Steve looks like he’s about to demand that Danny teach him how to correctly say ‘you’re welcome’ – but then Danny’s case is being called and, all at once, the humor fades and Danny’s nerves are back.

 

 

Danny throws himself on the court’s mercy and Steve (kinda) helps. Then they spend the day running an errand for the governor, but, hey, it ends in the arrest of a politician (one of Danny’s favorite things) and he’s just settling in in Steve’s backyard, because the governor’s coming over to congratulate them on a job well done, when Danny gets the call – the call that tells him that Grace will in fact be staying in Hawaii and Steve and Danny laugh in each other’s face and the governor, smirking into his beer, politely looks away.

 

-

 

Danny teaches Steve how to say _mo sketkùmpichik_ properly (and _sapemi mo_ (“thank you”) for good measure) and then they spend the rest of the Jets game lazily making out.

 

-

 

Two cops go down in just as many days and Danny doesn’t wait for who they later identify as Curt Stoner to make it a third, to take a second shot at Steve.

Steve forces Stoner’s car off the pier and then he’s shouting Danny’s name as Danny drops his gun and his badge and his phone all in the scant few seconds it takes for him to get out of the car and into the water.

The water is hot against Danny’s skin, burns him more than _se spotkayai_ , and he quickly tamps down on the instinct to _spiy_ – that would not only ruin his slacks and expose him as _wikte_ , but it would sharpen his senses too much and he’d be forced to waste an extraordinary amount of _kippù_ on dulling out the sounds of the harbor – but the instinct to hunt? Danny revels in it. He opens his eyes wider in the murky bay – the waters darkened by oil and trash and the constant upturning of the ocean floor – and searches for his prey.

Danny catches sight of Steve’s would-be assassin exiting the car through its busted windshield and Danny grins at the taste of blood in the water. Then he kicks his feet and swims hard and fast towards Stoner, grabbing him by the back of his coat and hauling him up towards the surface.

But Stoner, who’s got some kind of breathing apparatus between his lips, twists in Danny’s hands and then there’s something _strong_ gripping Danny’s wrist.

Danny snarls at the pain and looks down – sees that Stoner’s got a prosthetic and it’s what’s squeezing Danny, threatening to break his bones. Stoner looks up and he most see the yellow flash in Danny’s eyes because he’s jerking backwards – a predator suddenly realizing he was fighting in the wrong weight class – and Danny surges forward, taking advantage of that brief moment of fear.

Danny unsheathes his claws and he rips at the prosthetic – and it gives way readily before finally failing. Stoner’s mouth gapes open in fear, the heady taste of it thick even in the water, and Danny resists the urge to let Stoner swim away – just a little, just enough to let Stoner think he has a chance, just enough that Danny can _chase—_

Danny kicks forward and he’s once more got a grip on the back of Stoner’s jacket and he’s hauling them both to the surface.

On the pier, Steve is leaning against the Camaro, silently waiting with a sly smile for Danny to resurface.

 

 

“How mad will you be if I start running all of our suspects off piers just so I can watch you dive after them?” Steve asks as they leave HPD, Stoner fresh out of the hospital and now booked and in a jail cell (he was also screaming that Danny’s some kind of monster, but Danny had just shrugged and said, “Head injury,” without even looking up from the requisite forms he was filling out).

“I think that would be cruel and unusual,” Danny says. “But,” he lifts a finger, “I do appreciate the sentiment.”

They’re both in the car and heading back to Iolani Palace when Steve says—

“We need to find you some place to swim.”

Danny rolls his eyes.

“Steve,” he says, “I don’t think you understand quite what the water feels like to me. Okay, it-it-it _burns_. It’s like being put in a jacuzzi—”

“Jacuzzi’s are nice—”

“—like being put in a jacuzzi when you are an icicle and you want to remain an icicle,” Danny is gesturing with his hands, emphasizing the negativity he associates with ‘jacuzzi’ and the positivity he associates with wanting to remain an icicle.

Steve nods like he understands. “So, if the surface water is too hot, what about the bottom?”

“I can swim the bottom,” Danny accedes, “it’s just getting down to the bottom that’s the unpleasant part.”

Steve ‘hm’s and then he’s parking and they’re heading inside their own headquarters. Danny follows Steve inside and he can tell by the line of Steve’s shoulders that the man is plotting something.

 

-

 

It’s slow the next few days at the office – no murders that can’t be handled by HPD, no terrorist cells coming online, no one threatening the islands with deadly viruses – and that seems to suit Steve just fine. The man’s been keeping himself locked up in his office, researching something that he won’t tell Danny about.

Danny keeps catching snatches of conversation Steve’s having with Catherine as he asks for maps and data from buoys up to three hundred miles out from Hawaii.

Danny stands outside of Steve’s office, waits for Steve to look at him, and squints – letting Steve know that Danny’s onto him. Steve just raises his eyebrows, the slightest hint of a challenge, before he’s turning back to his work. Danny snorts and walks away.

“Are you guys okay?” Kono asks, a tablet in her hand.

“Steve is working on something secret,” Danny answers, leaning against the tech table and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Communication is the key to a healthy relationship, _bruh_ ,” Kono says seriously, though her eyes are laughing at him.

Danny shakes his head and waves a hand in the direction of Steve’s office, says, “He needs his secrets. I’ll let him have this one until he’s ready to share with the class.”

Then he and Kono share a grin before she’s pushing off the tech table and heading back towards her office. Danny’s just about to do the same when they catch a case involving Kamekona’s cousin and a little bit of murder.

 

 

Thomas Haopili is _wikte_ and the more the case drags on, the sicker to his stomach Danny gets. Underground fighting rings are nothing new; underground fighting rings featuring _wikte_ against _tihum_ are also nothing new – official reports of _wikte_ extinction be damned – there were certain circles where money could buy someone anything they wanted and if they wanted to watch a mixed-species cage match, that’s exactly what they were going to get.

Thomas’s daughter, Maggie, is _kwuw-wikte_ but she’s got enough _kippù_ that Danny almost mistakes her for being full-blooded. Danny’s sure that she’s a dolphin of some kind – probably one of the larger species that like to fight for fun.

On principle, Danny isn’t exactly fond of dolphins and Maggie seems to pick up on it and she clams up and Danny’s more annoyed by this turn of events then usual, so he and Steve leave her to Chin and Kono, and work at chasing down other leads. And when neither Chin nor Kono have any luck, they bring in Kamekona.

 

 

(Kamekona has trace hints of _sehas kippù_ in his scent – not enough for him to _spiy_ or recognize other _wikte_ , but Kamekona can read and carve an _ot_ , and speaks fluent Kùtki with the cousins who have more _wikte_ blood than himself.

Danny never says anything about what he is to Kamekona, not right away, but there had been a day when, off-duty, he had taken Grace to the shaved-ice stand. They had placed their order and when they got it, Grace had looked Kamekona in the eye and whispered, “ _Sapemi mo, akso_.”

Kamekona had frozen and his jaw had dropped and Danny wished desperately that he’d had his phone out – it was extremely difficult to knock Kamekona speechless on any occasion, and Danny wished he’d had the foresight to memorialize the moment.

“ _Mo sketkùmpichik, kwokǔhia_ ,” Kamekona responds, his voice also lowered to a whisper, after he’s gathered himself.

Kamekona had joined them at one of the tables and they talked about their respective colonies, about the need for secrecy, about how Danny and Grace struggled those first few months to adjust to Hawaii’s climate. Kamekona tells them about how _wikte_ were an open secret in some parts of the island chain and how they were simply folklore in others.

As he and Grace are about to leave – Kamekona had asked, “Does McGarrett know? You two are tight—”

“No,” Danny had answered with a quick shake of his head, “whether or not he knows about _wikte_ – that’s—. It’s not my place to find out.”

Kamekona had said nothing to that.

Three years later, when the team is gathered at Kamekona’s shrimp truck, Kamekona has obviously heard the news and he greets them all with a warm, “ _Sasketkùmpichik mo!_ ”

Danny squints at him, asks, “Who told you?”

Kamekona laughs and Chin doesn’t even bother looking guilty.)

 

 

Danny jumps the barrier and he grins as he calls out, “Hello, ladies and gentlemen.”

His fangs _itch_ to drop, so show the wealthy elite their money couldn’t keep them safe from the monsters that come from the deep dark – but he can’t because he’s got nearly the whole of HPD at his back and the casual maiming of unarmed humans was generally looked down on by, well, everyone, human and _wikte_ alike.

“Hope you had a fantastic evening,” he continues. “These nice gentlemen with the hats and the guns, they’re gonna take you to jail. Thank you very much for your patronage.”

 

 

That night, when Steve looks at Danny and asks, “Want to grab a beer at my place?”

Danny smirks and says, “I’d love to.”

 

-

 

Steve’s Top Secret Research Project is still ongoing and he’s still not talking about it.

“What if I said _please_?” Danny asks, lowering his voice and leaning in close.

Steve’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, his eyes glancing at Danny’s lips, before he shakes his head. “Not yet,” he says, his hand twitching over the top of the laptop he’d closed when Danny had walked into his office.

Danny glares and leaves and, at the tech table, Chin and Kono exchange money.

“Thought you’d break him this time, boss,” Kono says, looking on the verge of ordering Danny back into Steve’s office so she could get her money back from her cousin.

“Steve requires delicate handling,” Danny says, sticking one hand in his pocket and using the other to illustrate his point. “Time and patience are required.”

Chin and Kono share a look, but nothing else is said before Danny retreats to his own office.

 

-

 

Steve goes to North Korea and it goes against every single one of Danny’s instincts to let Steve go alone. Except he’s not alone – he’s got Catherine and she’s got a sensible enough head on her shoulders. Danny’s (reasonably) sure she won’t let Steve do anything stupid.

Except, after the funeral and after Danny’s fed Steve the promised Side Street wings, Danny learns that Steve had in fact done a few stupid things.

Danny leans back, rubs his hands over his face, and wonders if it’s too late to go to Vegas.

 

 

A week later and Steve is holding out two sets of keys to his house – one for Danny and one for Grace.

“If you don’t move in with me,” Steve says when Danny and Grace just blink dumbly at him, “I’m burning down this shithole of a house. If Grace is going to be staying on the island, I won’t have her staying in this place. I have more than enough room, okay?”

Danny looks at Grace and says, “ _Akso_ _Steve_ is never to be your role model for how to handle your feelings, am I clear?”

Grace, because she is perfect, nods at Danny. Then she turns to Steve and says, “All you have to do is ask, _Akso_ _Steve_. There’s no need for threats.”

It’s Steve’s turn to blink dumbly at them. “I would,” he says, “but your dad always fights me on everything – it’s a lot faster to just—”

“Steven,” Danny interrupts. Then, when he has Steve’s full and undivided, he says, “Ask me.”

Steve sighs as if burdened by the weight of the world, but his voice betrays his nerves as he asks, “Danno, will you move in with me?”

“Yes,” Danny says, standing up and holding his arms out, “yes, you ridiculous Neanderthal.”

 

-

 

Danny takes an instant liking to Lou Grover – much to Steve’s dismay.

 

 

“I don’t want to work with him,” Steve says, and Danny can hear the way Steve’s grinding his teeth despite the too-many-fucking-miles between them.

Danny shares a look with his _yuhǔy_ , who was just finishing starting the coffee, says, “Babe, if the governor says you gotta—”

“I thought you were on my side?” and Steve sounds petulant at this point, more annoyed than actually angry.

“I don’t think there are sides here,” Danny says, trying to be reasonable, “ _but_ , if I were to pick a side, it would the side where Five-0 was still a thing and you were still involved. I don’t want you to get fired, and I have a feeling,” Danny gestures with a finger even though Steve can see him, “a very strong feeling, Steven, that if you do _not_ do what the governor tells you to do, he will _at best_ suspend you and _at worst_ fire you. And do you know what happens then?”

“What, Danny?” Steve asks, his voice going from annoyed-not-angry to bemused.

“It means that you will go absolutely nuts,” Danny says, going from finger gestures to fully waving his hand around. “Imagine your life without being able to semi-legally blow stuff up and shoot people and zoom us all around O’ahu and—”

“I get it,” Steve cuts in, voice tense but Danny can hear the underlying humor, “I get it. I get it.  I’ll work with Grover.”

Danny smiles and his _yuhǔy_ gives him a knowing wink as she passes him a clean mug from the cabinet before turning to the fridge to pull out eggs, flour, milk, butter—

“I’m glad you get it,” Danny says. “Now you just gotta do it.”

Steve grumbles something profane at the other end of the line before they exchange their farewells.

Danny sighs and puts his phone on the counter before turning his attention to the coffee brewing – the machine was ancient, its white sides lightly stained brown from decades of use.

Apropos of nothing, _yuhǔy_ turns to him and asks, “Have you told him that you love him, yet?”

Danny is less shocked by the question than he thinks he probably should be, and doesn’t look away from the coffee before he says, “No.”

 

-

 

Danny sniffs the air, says, “Steve, wait—”

The man, tied to the chair, reeking of blood and, Danny identifies too late, C-4, says, “ _Bomb, bomb, bomb_ —”

Then Danny’s ears explode, and everything goes black.

 

 

It’s dark and enclosed and Danny _hurts_. But Steve is there, and he talks Danny through the pain as he works to get that chunk of concrete off Danny’s leg.

“This would a lot easier if I could just _spiy_ ,” Danny says, knowing that the strength of his tail would be enough to lift the piece of rubble.

“Are you sure you can’t—”

Danny closes his eyes, tries to focus on his breathing and keeping the building panic at bay, says, “I can’t.”

They’re assuming that Chin and Kono and the others made it out, that they’re the only ones trapped in here – if that’s the case, then rescue would be on its way soon enough and them finding Danny with shredded pants and underwear would be a little difficult to explain. It’d raise too many questions that Danny can’t risk.

Then again, Danny thinks with a slightly hysterical giggle, if he dies down here, it won’t matter much what questions are asked since he won’t be around to answer them.

Steve’s grip tightens on Danny’s hand before Steve leaves to find something to leverage the concrete off Danny’s leg and Danny recites the Mets’ line-ups of years past to console himself.

“ _Hernandez yupǔm yate tiw_ ,” he starts off, closing his eyes, listening to the sounds of Steve moving. “ _Backman yupǔm kinsak tiw_.” Scraping sounds, Steve cursing, rubble being moved. “ _Santana yupǔm kwuw-hi tiw_.” There’s still ringing in Danny’s ears – ringing that prevents him from stretching his hearing much further than the room they’re trapped in.

The room they’re trapped in.

The room they’re trapped in.

The room they’re trapped—

“ _Knight yupǔm hi tiw_ ,” Danny says forcefully, moving from the infielders to the outfielders and then onto the next year’s roster. Then the next year’s. Then the next year’s until finally Steve is back and Danny squints up at him, asks, “ _Ikǔhehi mo ippu spena?_ I’m on the ’92 roster and it’s a tough year.”

And Steve is looking at him in confusion – probably the Kùtki, probably because Danny’s still giggling and his breath is coming in these short little bursts that hurt his chest – and Steve’s always been adorable when he’s confused and that makes Danny laugh a little harder.

 

 

Steve frees Danny’s leg from the rubble, but then they find the rebar in Danny’s side and Danny lifts his lips and snarls at it. But, there’s hope. If they could get it out, Danny’s _kippù_ could start its work and the wound would be healed in less than two weeks – half that if Danny got himself into a tub of iced oceanwater for a little nap he didn’t have to wake up from for a few days.

“Before we die,” Danny says, turning to Steve to distract himself, “want to tell me what you’ve been working on?”

Steve hands him the water he’s scrounged up from somewhere, which Danny snarls at but drinks obediently, says, “When we get out of here, I’ll just show you. We’ll take the weekend – maybe the whole week, I think.”

Danny chuckles at the thought of Steve McGarrett purposefully taking a week off work so they could go on some mystery date.

“Promise?” Danny asks.

And Steve, looking so serious in that moment, meets Danny’s eyes and says, “I promise.”

 

 

Steve wants to blow them up (again) and Danny finds himself devolving into another fit of giggling as he says, “I just want you know, from the bottom of my heart,” Danny starts to say something else, but backtracks, changes his mind, “I hate you so much.”

Steve looks over his shoulder and he’s smiling wide and his eyes are dancing and he hears exactly what Danny’s really said. Because, as Steve turns away, he says, “Yeah, I love you, too, Danno.”

And Danny can’t do it – he can’t catch his breath and he’s staring at the back of Steve’s head as Steve sparks the lighter into life. Steve’s just about to light his little bomb and, Danny thinks, if this is it, if this doesn’t work, he—

Danny puts his hand lightly on Steve’s shoulder and Steve looks at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion until he reads the look on Danny’s face.

As far as maybe-last kisses go, it’s a good one. A little too much dust and dirt for Danny’s liking, but, when they part, Danny rubs his thumb over Steve’s cheek and whispers—

“ _Saspǔwik mo_.”

And Steve, in a flawless way that lets Danny know that Steve’s once more been learning things from Grace, repeats the words exactly back to Danny.

“ _Saspǔwik mo_ , Danno.”

It’s the first time they’ve said the words, but also, it’s not. Every day they do something for each other, almost every look and touch and even their arguments – there’s been a thousand ways they’ve told each other they love each other. This? This just makes it a thousand and one.

 

 

As soon as they get to the surface – Lou and Chin and Kono are there with their arms outstretched, and Danny falls into them. But he doesn’t let them take him away until Steve’s beside him, then, together and with the help of their team and Lou, they hobble towards a pair of ambulances.

Danny’s phone is lighting up with a flurry of messages and alerts for dozens of missed calls. He calls Grace first and assures her that he’s in one piece and that he’ll see her soon. Then Grace puts Kamekona, who was the one who’d picked her up from school after everything had gone down, on the line.

“I need a favor,” Danny says, his voice lowering as he feels his exhaustion beginning to settle in his bones, the exhaustion and the pain.

“Whatever you need,” Kamekona says.

“Grace has the key to the house,” Danny says. “Take her there, then fill the bathtub with ice and oceanwater. I need—”

“Consider it done,” Kamekona interrupts.

“ _Sapemi mo_ , _kwokǔhia_ ,” Danny whispers, and before anything else can be said, the EMTs have decided that Danny’s had enough time to make his calls and start ushering him into the ambulance for the trip to the hospital.

The doors are just about to close when Steve pokes his head in, says, “I’m gonna meet Grace at the house, Danno.”

And all Danny can do is smile and give Steve a little wave, his strength too sapped even for words.

 

 

Kono drives Danny home from the hospital and, after hugging Grace and kissing Steve, Danny sheds his clothes and shifts and crawls into the iced oceanwater bath waiting for him – Steve’s bathtub is much larger than Danny’s old one, but Danny’s _ie_ is still too long, too thick to fit all of it inside of the tub.

Danny makes do and, instead of lamenting, especially when he realizes that Steve had also put up Danny’s blackout curtains and pulled them tightly closed so that, when the door was shut, the room was pitch black, he simply takes a deep breath and disappears beneath the water.

 

 

Danny wakes to the sound of the bathroom door opening and slips back to sleep to the sound of Steve reaching around him and draining the tub a little before adding more ice, more oceanwater.

 

 

After two days, Danny eases himself from the tub and walks down to the kitchen. It’s early and neither Grace nor Steve are up yet – so Danny sets about making pancakes.

Danny’s just plated the last of the pancakes when Steve’s arms snake around his middle, ever mindful of Danny’s injuries – the hole from the rebar was healing quickly and the broken rib was now nearly mended – and presses a soft, gentle kiss to Danny’s temple.

“Good morning,” Steve greets as he rests his forehead against Danny’s shoulder.

“Good morning,” Danny echoes, reaching up behind him and resting his palm against the back of Steve’s head. He twists a little so he can see Steve properly and Steve looks down at him and smiles.

“Whenever you’re up for it,” Steve says, his voice a whisper, as if afraid of breaking the moment between them, “I’d like the three of us to take a little trip.”

“It’ll be a few days before I’m ready to brave an airport,” Danny says, as they disentangle – Danny’s still got the frying pan in his hand and he moves to place it in the sink. He’s just turning on the faucet when Steve says—

“Not the airport, Danny.”

Danny looks over his shoulder and Steve’s _smirking_.

 

-

 

Steve bought a boat.

Steve bought _Danny_ a boat.

It’s nothing flashy, but it works and it’s got a berthing below decks and a pair of electric coolers just behind the little bridge and—

Grace squeals and runs to check everything out – leaving Danny to deal with all of the feelings clawing their way up his chest, constricting his throat and stealing his words from right off his tongue.

“It’ll take two or three days,” Steve is saying, suddenly bashful as he looks at everything except Danny, “but, I found a spot where you and Grace should be okay. It’s far enough out that, at depth, the water temps are cold enough for you, and there’s extremely minimal shipping traffic, so the sound levels shouldn’t, uh, they shouldn’t be an issue.” Steve shrugs, looking down at the pier beneath his feet. “I, um—look, if it doesn’t work out, I can find somewhere else.”

Danny’s ears are ringing and he’s staring at Steve – at his beautiful _tihum tùnsak_ and he—

Danny can’t—

Danny can’t find the words – in neither English nor Kùtki – that can properly express what he wants to say to Steve to explain what something like this means to Danny, how this makes Danny _feel_ —

So Danny grabs Steve and he kisses him – right there on the docks – kisses him gently and then he’s deepening it, his fingers of one gripping tight the back of Steve’s head as his other fists in the back of Steve’s shirt – and it’s not enough, it’ll never be enough to convey—

But then Danny is pulling back and Steve is beaming – because four years working together and Steve is always able to understand all that Danny might not be able to say. Steve understands him; he gets it. If he didn’t, Danny realizes, he’d never have thought to get Danny a boat and find a place for Danny and Grace to swim.

Before Danny can think too much longer about just how much Steve means to him – Grace is there and she’s grabbing their hands and she’s pulling them towards the boat, talking excitedly about when they should take the trip and how much fun it’ll be to swim in the ocean wide.

Over her head, Steve and Danny grin at each other – ridiculous and sappy and so in love.

 

-z-

 

End.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have stuff I want to write in this universe, but it's staying marked as complete because I can't guarantee y'all anything.


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